Dragon Age Origins: Dragon Slayer
by Glader96
Summary: "Did you hear about the Cousland boy?" "Oh yes! He ran away from home and joined some group of Nevarran dragon hunters." "Hahaha! No, my dear you have it all wrong. The boy may have run away two years ago but at the age of sixteen he was knighted by the Nevarran King, himself! They say he slew a High Dragon and came very near to death doing so!"
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Good evening everyone, Glader here. Let us get the ball rolling; here is the first chapter of Dragon Age Origins: Dragon Slayer

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As the sun slowly falls beyond the horizon and dark clouds cover once blue sky, a light sheet of soft white snow melts off the still cooling corpse of a blue and red dragon. Next to the body is a young man of strong stature and lightly tanned skin, with silvery-white hair, sea-green eyes, and adorned in ornate silver colored dragon bone armor. In his grip is a beautiful great-sword that gleams both gold and silver, still wet and dripping with the blood of its latest victim.

The young man stared intently at the now dead draconian query, his every breath throwing a cloud of steam into the cooling air.

"My Lord!" A gravely voice calls out, tearing the young man's attention from the corpse. Turning away from the dragon the young man's eyes focused on his approaching second-in-command; a Nevarran by the name of Callas Tartham.

Callas Tartham could not be described as a tall man at 5'2; especially compared to his commander's intimidating 6'1 stature. Callas was, however, quite stout with arms and legs thick with muscle, broad shoulders, a bald head, and early greying beard. Strapped to the back of his dragon bone-silverite plate armor was a large war hammer, with a large dragon fang forming the hammer's head.

"News out of Ferelden, my Lord." Callas announced, dark emotions swirling and making his pale blue eyes look like shards of ice. "Our supply runners report gossip in Cumberland about Darkspawn south of someplace called the Kocari Wilds. There are whispers of a Blight, the first to originate from within Ferelden's borders."

Without hesitation the young man began marching in the direction his second had come from. With a flick of his wrist the dragon blood staining the great sword gone, now staining the pure snow red, before returning the magnificent blade to an it's sheath on his back. His march carried him past his second-in-command and as he passed his voice rang out; flat but throaty.

"I'm leaving Callas, my homeland needs me; my family needs me. You are in charge of the Order until get back, assuming I survive of course."

A small frown formed onto Callas' aged face as he turned to follow his chosen lord.

"You have a number of soldiers at your disposal, my Lord. Allow us to accompany and assist you in this endeavor."

"Sir Callas." The young lord released a mirthless laugh. "These men follow me for the chance to hunt dragons, not to fight Darkspawn. I doubt they would agree to join me to fight in a Blight; nor would I want to ask it of them, it is not their burden nor their home in danger."

Callas' smile turned into a small, unseen, knowing smile as he and his lord came to a stop at the edge of a shear cliff. Situated below them a large sprawling campsite, filled with hundreds of tents and dotted with bonfires, was busy as man and women hurriedly did a number of tasks. Some broke down extra tents and packed away nonessential gear, while others harvested useful parts of dragonlings and drakes with as much speed as they could muster.

"My Lord." Callas grinned. "I made and announcement to the troops before I came to relay the news to you. I had expected you to respond to the news like this; so, I told the soldiers that you were going to leave for you homeland."

Within the camp a sudden loud barking grabbed the attention of every person in the valley. A young but large dog, a Mabari, dashed out of the largest tent in camp and sprinted his way up a rocky mountain trail until he found his place at his master's side on the top of the shear cliff. With a small smile the tanned young man reached down and rubbed the dog's head before refocusing on the older Nevarran knight.

"As I was saying." Callas smiled at the dog and its master. "I told them that you were going to face the Blight and I asked who would come with me to assist you."

Abruptly Callas snapped his feet together before pounding his chest plate, above his heart, three times with his right hand. The nearest people in the camp; hearing the banging of metal on metal, looked up and upon seeing Callas saluting the younf lord, mimicked the gesture. This caused a chain reaction that ended with every person I the camp saluting; the combined chest beats sending a resounding echo throughout the snowy NEvarran mountains. The salute was then followed by a roar of approval, loyalty, and excitement that shook the earth beneath their feet.

"Lord Artorias Cousland." Sir Callas struggled to have his voice heard over the noise of the troops bellow. "Every and woman here has agreed to follow you to Ferelden; the Order of Balmung stands with you, our grandmaster."

"If that's the case." Artorias' mouth stretched into a wide grin and his sea-green eyes sparkled like the ocean in the morn. "Get everyone to triple time their packing; I want to be on the move by first light tomorrow, and booking passage for us in Cumberland by the day after. Also get a team to harvest that young Kaltenzhn; not only will I need a good gift to bribe my parents to forgive my departure, but the winters in Ferelden can get quite cold and that beast's hide will make for a nice leather cloak."


	2. Chapter 2: Home

**Hello everyone, it's your friendly neighborhood Glader back with another chapter of Dragon slayer. I meant to get this out yesterday but my roommate invited me to go out clubbing and I wanted to have a little fun before classes really picked up. Now I feel like crap but I would feel even worse if I didn't get this chapter out. Also, the chapters after the next one will most likely take more time to produce because I only have chapter 1- 3 written out by hand, and I prefer to write out a chapter on paper before copying it to the computer; just a heads up. Anyway I hope you enjoy the chapter, and look forward to chapter 3, where the real shit begins.**

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Bryce

"… I'm terribly sorry about the inconvenience my Lord."

 _And of course, on top of a possible Blight Rendon is having trouble with the infamous Banns of Amaranthine, why am I not surprised?_

Driving my dark thoughts out with I sigh, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Eleanor had made me aware that I always made this tell when I'm 'thinking too hard', and even after she pointed it out I still never managed to kick the habit. With another sigh I focused on my oldest friend's face.

Rendon always had deeply set eyes, but now his once determined eyes were nearly hidden by how inward they sunk and the bruises around his eyes from lack of sleep. Because of his deep-seated eyes, his nose looked even more crooked than when it was broken by an Orlesian Chevalier's iron clad fist, and the wrinkles on his face made him look much older then he truly was.

"It is fine, don't worry my friend." I placated, drawing a slight lopsided grin from my oldest friend. "The Darkspawn in the south caught us all by surprise. I'll just have Fergus march out with the Highever troops tonight, and I'll accompany you when your forces arrive. It'll be just like old times Rendon."

My reassuring words must have had the right effect, because my friend's lopsided grin morphed into a wide smile that was more at home in a battlefield, for it had more teeth then any smile used at social gathering. The last time I saw Rendon with such a grin was during the Defense of Denerim, the final major battle of the Rebellion, when he repeatedly sunk his axes into the Chevalier regiment that was responsible for death of Rendon's father.

"Only this time," Rendon grinned. "We'll be facing Darkspawn not Orlesian."

That pulled a chuckle out of both of us, and for a moment we were both lost in the memories of our escapades and adventures during Maric's Rebellion. As we laughed at the expense of our one-time enemies, out of the corner of my eye I noticed two figures enter the main hall.

With black hair, haggard face, light silverite chainmail, and a plane dragon bone sword; Commander Duncan looked every bit the dutiful Grey Warden Commander. By his side the red hair and youth-full face of my sworn knight, Sir Gilmore, stood out in contrast, and by the look his face the knight looked interested in joining the ranks of the legendary Grey Wardens.

 _I wonder if, in 20 years, Sir Gilmore will look more like Duncan. If the burden that their order carries will end up making even him look old and tired._

However, as Gilmore noticed me his spirited conversation with Warden Duncan abruptly ended, and he hurried his step in approach of me. When he was within arm's length he stiffened and pounded his chest in salute.

"One moment old friend." I interrupted Rendon as he recounted his actions during the Battle of the Bercilian Forest, where he ambushed the Orlesian army's field camp and reinforcements. "Sir Gilmore, do you have something to report?"

"Yes, my Lord." The knight transitioned into a less alert stance. "There is a visitor at the gate. By his look, he seems to be some sort of noble, but he has refused to identify himself before being greeted by either you or the Teyrna. Also, he is armed…heavily armed, my Lord."

"Hmm?" I pondered out loud. "Very well. Sir Gilmore please show our guest into the waiting area outside the main hall and offer him some refreshments. I will show the Arl to the dinning hall and have Fergus head out with the troops before meeting you by the gate."

"Very good, my Lord." Gilmore saluted again before striding off towards the front gate, leaving Duncan with Rendon and myself.

Turning towards the main hall's left side door, I motioned for both my guests to follow before leaving the main hall.

"Duncan, this is Arl Rendon Howe. Rendon, this is Duncan; Ferelden's Commander of the Grey." I introduced as we made our way further into Castle Cousland.

"My Lord!" Rendon scrambled. "Why was I not informed that Commander Duncan would be here?"

I felt an involuntary scowl form on my lips at my friend's rude behavior, and when I turned my head to glare at him he noticed my displeasure.

"Rendon, Duncan arrived earlier with a recruit unannounced but not unwelcome. He came to Highever in search of more Grey Warden candidates, and he currently has his eyes on Sir Gilmore."

"I apologize my Lord; Sir Duncan." Rendon backpedaled. "It is just that Grey Wardens require a certain level of protocol. I…am at a disadvantage."

"Please, Teyrn Cousland." A new, younger, feminine voice placated. "Arl Howe's words were not so bitter as to cause harm."

The owner of the voice stepped out of the castle library and gave a respectful curtsy after she approached us, and in doing so gave me a good look at Duncan's recruit from Kinloch Hold. Beautiful bright eyes; one brilliant emerald and the other a clear-sky blue, shone out from underneath a head of hair that looked like it was made of spun gold and silver thread. A wide smile stretched across her young, unmarked face, and beneath her glossy lips were the barest hints of sparkling white teeth. Her circle-mage robes did very little to hide her rather…shapely form, or keep attention from her robust chest. Even the threat of magic, in the form of the staff in her hands, didn't keep the eyes of a patrolling pair of guardsmen off her rear end.

"My lord Arl." The woman addressed Rendon. "Us Grey Wardens can objectively be thought of the same as a Knightly Order that has been given to operate on an international level."

"My lord Teyrn; my lord Arl." Duncan's deep baritone interjected. "Allow me to introduce Shiara Amell; the Grey Warden recruit I picked up from Ferelden's Circle of Magi."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances, my Lords." Shiara curtsied again, this time with an impish grin.

"A pleasure indeed, Miss Shiara." I returned with a smile.

"Yes, a pleasure." Rendon blushed as he valiantly tried to keep his eyes above her neck line.

With introductions completed I continued leading my guests to the dinning hall, only for yet another voice to interrupt my current groups polite chatter.

"Father!" The unmistakable rough voice of my eldest son rang out. Out of my family's personal wing of the castle marched my first born, with a long-sword of castle-forged steel and a buckler strapped to the back of his red steel heavy chainmail. I felt a strange mix of parental pride and sadness at seeing my eldest looking every bit the Ferelden warrior.

 _Despite how much blood the elder generation spills, it will never be enough to protect the next one from having to fight as well._

"Fergus." I smiled before introducing my son to Duncan and Shiara. "I want you to lead our troops to Ostagar for me. I'll march with the Arl's forces when they arrive. And please my son; be careful."

With a confident smile Fergus stepped in close and gave me a careful hug before giving our guests a few parting remarks and marching off.

 _Maker watch over you, my son._

With no more interruption I lead Rendon and the Grey Wardens to the dinning hall and left them for the front gate, curious to see who dropped by unannounced.

When I reached the right side passage that lead to the main gate Sir Gilmore noticed my approach. After motioning for the knight to stay silent, I turned my attention to analyze this new arrival who was reading a small, worn leather bound book in his armored hands. Long and messy stark white hair contrasted the man's tanned skin, which in turn stood out under his bright silver and gold armor. Strapped to his back was a sheathed great-sword with a cross shaped hilt, and a vivid blue gem inlayed in the middle of the grip.

I absent mindedly ordered Gilmore to set up the night's patrol schedule and waved him off, before coughing to get the stranger's attention. The man's shoulder's tensed immediately and his head whipped up to look at me, and his eyes bore into mine. Seafoam green eyes; so much like my love Leandra's, bore into my own brown orbs. The eyes looked so familiar but before I could comment on them movement out of my vision drew my attention away.

Next to the stranger a brown and red stripped shape, that I had originally wrote off as some sort of travel bag, began to move and untangle its self. Within seconds a large, tongue lapping Mabari was up on its feet starring at me, then suddenly it was right in front of me. The Ferelden hound easily stood up on its hind legs, put its front on my chest, and gave me a big slobbering kiss, the beasts stubby tail wagging excitedly. Looking into the canine's yellow eyes I suddenly recognized the beast.

"Chulainn?" I gasped, only to be answered with an excited bark. "If you are here then…"

I slowly turned to look at the white haired young man and noticed something I had not before. His high cheek bones, nose, and chin all have a striking resemblance to my own features, and when he gave me a small smile I finally saw it. His smile was the exact same as my father's smile, one that skipped me but showed up in one other person.

"Artorias?! My son, is that you?"

My son's eyes brightened with mirth at my words, and my eyes watered slightly as joy surged through my soul.

"How are you, Father? Did you miss me?"

Lunging forward, I pulled my youngest child into a crushing embrace, not even caring about the small tear that dripped from my right eye.


	3. Chapter 3: Failure

**A wild Glader appears!**

 **How ya doing everyone, I hope you all feel better then I do. A reminder kiddies; forty-eight hours without sleep and four hour classes do not mix, don't make the same mistake I did. Learn from my stupidity, I implore you. Any way here is the next chapter of Dragon Slayer; and I'll admit I'm not extremely proud of it. I wished I could have gotten finished this entire mini-arc in this chapter but if I did this one chapter would be extraordinarily long compared to the chapters that proceed it and I'mm not confident that I could keep up the precedent. This didn't end up being the chapter that I was looking forward to write, like I boasted in the last chapter's AN, but I'm positive that the next chapter will be. And I'll be working on it latter tonight after I get something to eat.**

 **With that out of the way, enjoy!**

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Artorias

 _Much has changed since I last set foot in Castle Cousland. The walls are the same as when I left, but the people within are different._

An elf I have never met tends to the castle garden with a smile, a new pair of helmeted faces guard the front gate, less soldiers man the walls, and countless servants with names unknown to me scurry up and down the hall.

 _It still feels like home, even after all this time._

Streaks of grey now worm through his dark hair, and he has many more wrinkles lining his face. But like the castle wall some things about him are still the same; like his blue eyes that shined with love when he recognized me, and his purposeful stride despite his walk.

Father lead me quickly though the nostalgic stone passages towards the dinning room, where a feast was undoubtedly waiting for us, all the while sharing with me the current state of the realm. Of the Darkspawn threat rising in the south and Ferelden's army in Ostagar posed to stop it.

"Pup, if you had told Sir Gilmore or a servant that it was you; Fergus may have had a chance to see you before he had to march." Father chastised me lightly.

"And ruin the surprise?" I grin, looking down to catch my Father's eye and witness his chuckle. "Dad, I so rarely get to see you lose your composure, so I couldn't let the chance go to waist."

Father's response was an obviously fake 'humph' and a forced frown as he turned away from me to enter the dinning hall.

"This feast was to be dedicated to commemorate our soldiers who head off to protect us from evil." I hear his stable baritone initiate. "And it still is. However, this feast is now also a celebration; for my youngest son has returned from traveling abroad. Ladies and Gentlemen give a toast to Artorias Cousland, my youngest has returned!"

The dinning hall filled with noise as those inside cheered as I strode into the view of my countrymen and women. A blur crashed into my arms the second I entered the hall, and a pair of slender arms pulled me into a powerful hug as the hall's cheers became chortles. My mother's sea-green eyes dripped with clear tears as they stared into my similarly colored orbs.

 _Even Mother is different now._

Mother's once bright and free flowing blond hair was now grey and done up in perfectly formed braid buns. The skin around her eyes are marked with crows-feet, and small worry lines have etched themselves around her mouth.

Yet her arms are as strong as I remember; a sign that he still practices archery no doubt, and her sense of dress still manages to make everyone else in the room pale in comparison. And Mother's voice still manages to make me feel safe and supported.

"My dear darling boy." She whispers, tears falling from her eyes and causing her makeup to run slightly. "Praise the Maker you have been returned to us."

With a sigh Mother releases me from her embrace, only to grab onto my armored arms and hold me at arm's length for a moment.

"Let me get a good look at you Artorias, hold still." She chides lightly as her eyes run up and down my form. "Hmm, a bit tanner and a lot taller, all filled out and as strong as an ox no doubt. Glad to see you managed to keep your teeth clean and white; but dear, what in Andraste's name happened to your hair?"

Chuckling at Mother's babying, I casually move us to our seats at the table while greeting the other figures joining us for dinner. Then as we take our seats I motion for one of the servants to pour some wine in my goblet with a thankful smile.

"Give me a moment to get comfortable Mother." I finally respond. "After I have a little to eat I'll regale everyone with a story or two of my time in Nevarra."

With Mother placated I turned my attention to the servant who had finished pouring my wine and was now moving a large slice of stuffed pig onto my plate. This woman is one of the new faces around the castle and looked to be around my age, and unlike the other elven help that worked her she stood out. Wavy strawberry-blond hair, almost pink in the candle light, was tied up in an elegant braid of elven fashion fell to the center of her back. Her hair complimented her deep blue eyes and fair skin, but also made her short stature, even for an elf, stand out more. She wore a plain servant's gown complete with a brown apron, yet the mundane cloths did little to hide the predator-like grace she moved with, or the subtle muscles were the dress did not cover.

 _She must have been some sort of fighter at some point._

"Thank you." I smiled crookedly as she finished stacking my plate, allowing my unnaturally sharp canines to show. "You must be new here miss. When I left I knew all the people that worked here by name and face, and they knew me from the chaos I caused with my Mabari, Chulainn, when we were younger. My name is Artorias, might I know yours."

Unbeknownst to the rest of the room, my faithful hound immediately halted his own feast at the sound of my voice calling his name, and shifted his focus solely on myself and the young elf I was speaking to. He stared intently at the young women for a few seconds before sniffing and turning back to his food, all before the woman in question could respond.

With a small curtsy, the women returned a small, hesitant smile that got a bit more natural as my crooked grin changed into a more relaxed smile. "Of course, my Lord. I am Halava Tabris, I started working here a few weeks ago. I met Lady Oriana in Denerim and she put in a good word for me with your lord father."

 _I bet there is more to the story then just that, but Oriana isn't a bad judge of character._

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss. Tabris."

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Cousland."

With our introduction out of the way, the young women hurried over to help my sister-in-law who was fussing over my nephew Oren, and I focused on eating and making light conversation with Castle Cousland's guests. About halfway through my plate I could practically see Mother and Father's nervous energy in the air as their eyes kept focusing on my silvery-white hair. It was obvious that my parents were annoyed that I had yet to speak about the subject that was bothering, and by the grins of the other feast-goers that they could see it too.

With a loud cough to grab the room's attention, I placed my silverware down. "Well I think I have kept my parents in suspense long enough." A round of soft laughing follow my admittance.

"Almost everyone here knew me before I left for Nevarra four years ago, when I hair was dark as pitch. Well my new hair color is an unexpected result of my profession as a Dragon Hunter."

Gasps of surprise, and hushed whispers answer my bold statement, as everyone looks at me with wide eyes. Of the room's reactions, Oren's is by far the most prevalent. His wide eyes sparkled with joy and wonderment, and he looked at me with as much awe as I did when I first saw a High Dragon, all the while the man with a griffon symbol on chest plate stared at me with intense dark eyes.

* * *

 _My legs felt like lead, my arms shook, and my body trembled in pain. When my opponent's sword came rocketing at my chest it was all I could do to raise my shield and slap the blade away. With his attack foiled my opponent sluggishly put some distance between us, kicking up the lose sand with his armored boots as he did so._

 _His action put a smile on my face; for as tired and pained as I felt, I knew Marius Pentaghast was just as hurt and exhausted, perhaps even more so…After all that gash I put on his shield arm looked_ painful, _and no doubt stung every time he needed to block._

 _While I didn't get a chance to speak with him before the match; Marius Pentaghast looked to be around my age, maybe a year or two older judging by the strength of his attacks, with a head of short cropped brown hair, brown eyes, and a freckled face hidden under his squire's helm. As the champion of four smaller tourneys Marius was diffidently considered the 'easy bet' compared to me: a foreigner with no notable wins to speak of, and yet as our match stretched on the faces in the crowd that bet on the 'Ferelden Underdog-lord' looked more and more hopeful._

 _And Marius, who had probably been told that this would be an easy win, looked like he was didn't mind at all. In fact, he seemed to be having a swell time, and to be fair my ear-to-ear grin probably said the same thing about me. After all it has been a long time since I faced a real challenge, but unfortunately all good things must come to an end, and this match's time had come a while ago._

 _Sucking in one more lungful of air, I went on the offensive. Feinting a cross slash at my opponent's right side, I waited until Marius had committed to his defense before stepping forward, pulling my sword out of its current arc, and slamming the edge of my shield into the bottom of his shield. This forced the bottom edge of his shield to violently collide with his rib cage, knocking the air from his lungs._

 _Not waiting for him to recover, I hastily side-stepped to his right ready to disarm him only to be met by his sword inches away from my face. Marius, despite being winded, had seen my movement coming and tried to score a win via a sword-to-neck surrender, but my resulting hasty dodge instead put the Nevarran's blade into my collar. But as blood flowed from my wound I saw my last chance at ending the match._

 _My sword lashed out faster than I thought I could swing it, and with a mighty ring of steel my sword collided with my opponent's cross guard, twisting his weapon from his grasp. Then he before he could react to his sword hitting the arena's sand covered floor I stepped forward again, this time my armored boot stepping on the earthbound blade, and brought my sword to rest against my opponent's neck. Marius' hands flew to the sides of his head immediately in surrender, and after a few seconds of stunned silence the announcer's voice echoed through the stadium._

" _Our winner, Ladies and Gentlemen! Artorias Cousland of Ferelden!"_

 _My head ached as the cheers of the crowd combined with my continuing blood loss resulted in a splitting headache, but after giving my opponent a bow and a handshake, I plastered a smile on my now helmetless face and waved to the crowd with my right hand. After obliging the crowd for a moment, I immediately dragged myself out of the arena and to the tourney infirmary; where a scowling Mortalitasi healer began repairing the left side of my collar with magic._

 _I must have fallen asleep at some point during my treatment, for when I woke up I was laid out on one of the infirmary cots; my collar sore and wrapped in bandages, but feeling much better than before and no longer leaking blood. As I eased my body into a sitting position I noticed that the grouchy old mage who had treated me before was gone, and sitting at his desk a young, pretty girl dressed in Circle of Magi robes, reading a leather-bound book. Forcing myself off the comfortable cot and onto my feet, I approached the mage girl, summoning up my most charming smile onto my face when she noticed me._

" _Good day, my lady." I greeted and was rewarded with a small smile. "I am grateful for yours's and the elder mage's good work, I feel nearly as good before I started my last match, I am in your debt."_

 _The woman blushed lightly at my praise, and an amused twinkle shone in her brown eyes. "You are welcome, my lord, but no thanks are necessary. I enjoy using my power to help people. My name is Alissa Bessren, and that 'elder mage' is Alvus Aren, and he would be hopping mad if he heard you refer to him as such."_

 _She laughed lightly as I paled slightly, but at the same time a small genuine smile formed on my face._

" _You and Mr. Aren have my thanks anyway, Miss Bessren. Do you know how much longer it will be until my final match? If I'm going to put up a good show, I'll need enough time to stretch and warm up."_

 _Alissa's smile immediately fell, and she glanced at the medical tent's flap before sighing and focusing on me again._

" _I'm sorry, I thought someone had informed you already." She responded. "Your injury was serious, my lord. Serious enough that, for your safety, Senior Enchanter Aren had to bar you from fighting I the finals. Your opponent for the final round has already been named the victor and given the prize, and now all the nobles and guests are attending the closing feast. Lord Morvaine had your formal cloths made ready and folded next to your bed. He asked that you make your way to the feast when you wake up."_

 _My smile disappeared as I nodded numbly at the girl's words. Closing the privacy screen between us, stripped out of my armor and into a finely made pair of trousers and a fur-lined doublet. I gave Alissa one more strained smile that she returned with a sad smile before I left the infirmary for the city's main keep._

I failed. My dream, my ambition, my goal, my chance to become a Dragon Hunter ripped from my grasp and I didn't even get a chance to fight for it. I failed.


	4. Chapter 4: Opportunity

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the Fate series. Both franchises belong to their respective creators.**

 **Also I'll be moving my author's note to the bottom of each chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Chapter 4: Opportunity

 _Artorias_

 _Bang! Bang!_

" _Wholf! Wholf! Grrrr!"_

 _The sound of someone slamming their fist on my rented room's door woke me and Chulainn from our deep slumber and brought out my hound's ire. A quick glace out my room's window told me it was still dark out, but, seeing as I had left Lord Morvaine's feast early and fell asleep the moment I hit the inn's sheets, that didn't mean much._

I wonder what time it is?

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

 _Grrrrr!_

And who the hell keeps hitting my door!?

" _Calm down bud." I ordered Chulainn._

 _Grinding my teeth, I got out of my rented bed and threw on a plain pair of breaches. As a precaution, I made sure that my sword was within reaching distance before I yanked the door open. The sound that accompanied the action sounded more like a growl then a, 'Who is it?' but at this point I didn't really care._

 _My question was answered by the freckled face of my last opponent in the tourney before my injuries disqualified me. Marius Pentaghast looked more then a little amused with my foul humor and his tilted grin made my already inflamed temper build. No longer dressed in armor, Marius was a few inches shorter than me, and with him dressed in lose Nevarran casual clothing, he didn't look nearly strong enough to be a soldier in training, much less a squire months away from being knighted, but the memory of his strength during our fight proved otherwise._

" _Good evening, Squire Pentaghast." I greeted cautiously after a breath. "Can I help you with anything this late in the night?"_

" _In fact, there is Lord Cousland." Marius answered casually. "My father, Vinhelm Pentaghast, wished to speak with you before you depart back to Ferelden's shores. He requests a meeting, but he must leave the city first thing tomorrow mourn, so if the meet is to happen it must happen tonight."_

 _Outwardly my expression didn't change, but inwardly I frowned. Nevarra neighbored Orlais to the south and west, just as Ferelden neighbored the empire to the south, and being the son of a Tyern I knew how often Orlais' 'Great Game' spilled into neighboring nations. I had no desire to be caught up in the machinations of an over ambitious lord, but outright declining would be rude and could have negative consequences for my homeland down the road._

" _Do happen to know what it is your father wishes to discuss?" I played it safe by questioning._

" _Nope." My former opponent just shrugged._

" _Does it have anything to do with the Orlesians and their 'Great Game'?" I asked with a bit less diplomacy._

 _My rival just stared at me for a few seconds with his mouth hanging open before nearly falling off his feet laughing. He laughed so much that at some point he needed to balance himself by putting his hands on his knees to stay standing._

" _Oh, Maker no!" Marius chuckled. "Father would be the last person in all of Nevarra to be involved with the Great Game. By the Fade, Father hates it when Uncle tries to talk to him about Nevarran or inner Pentaghast politics, if anyone tried to bring him into the Game he would charge them with his sword."_

 _Finally recovering, Marius got off his knees and rubbed his, now wet, eyes. His smile was much more open now and, despite myself, I felt much less tense as well._

" _Thank you, I needed that." My rival grinned. "Father really just wants to speak with you before he returns to the Order of Durandal's headquarters tomorrow."_

" _The Order of Durandal?" I blurted out._

" _You competed in the one tourney that grants the winner a spot in the Order of Gram, yet you don't know about the other Dragon Hunter Orders?" Marius asked inscrutably._

" _I've only heard of the Order of Gram." I shrug. "When I was young a man visited Castle Cousland, my home, who said he was a part of the most famous of Nevarra's Dragon Hunting Orders; The Order of Gram. My parents let him stay in the castle until the ship he was waiting for was ready to shove off, and while he stayed with us he told me stories about famous dragon slayers from the Order of Gram. Like the Order's founder; Sigurd and the fell dragon Andvaran, Nephram Pentaghast and the dragon with an army of drakes, and Sir Caliban and the final Steel Age dragon."_

 _Again, Marius just started snorting and chuckling._

" _My friend," he placated when he noticed my confusion. "All the tales, while great and mostly true, happened ages ago. Have you heard of any recent conquests of the Order of Gram?"_

 _Racking my brain and finding nothing, I shook my head in response._

" _That is because they haven't done anything noteworthy in centuries." Marius continued. "These day, the Order of Gram is nothing more than a place where rich nobles can send their heirs so that they can have the title of Dragon Hunter, but not have to experience any of the danger that actually comes with hunting dragons. The Order of Durandal on the other hand actually hunts dragons, and does a damn good job of it too."_

So, a real dragon hunter wishes to speak with me? I must speak with him, this might be my final chance to become a dragon hunter!

 _With hope for the future burning inside of me, I stapled a determined grin on my lip and quickly tied my sheathed sword to my belt._

" _Ok Marius Pentaghast, I'm interested in hearing what your father withes to speak with me about."_

 _The Pentaghast just grinned in response before turning on his heel and striding off, leaving me to follow with my loyal mabari trotting along after me._

" _So, I understand that the Order of Gram gets its name from the sword that its founder used to slay the dragon Andvaran, but where does the name Durandal come from?"_

" _It is the same concept." Marius shrugs. "Early in the Steel Age, famous White Knight of Nevarra killed the Lavon the Black with his sword Durandal. He refused to reveal his name to anyone, but still the king of the time made him the founder of his own Dragon Hunter Order. All the Orders are like that; Joyuese, Curtana, Chrysaor, and Arondight. All of them are named after famous swords."_

 _Nodding at Marius' words, I noticed that we had arrived at a much higher-class inn than the one I was staying in. Small balconies accompanied the rooms on the higher floors and flowers lined all the building's windows. Hanging next to the inn's front door was a sigh gilded with bronze depicting a magnificent horse rearing on its hind legs and underneath the horse was the inn's name; The Galant Gelding, in gold letters, Common on one side and Orlesian on the other._

 _Up on entering the establishment the bartender, an older robust man with a thick Orlesian accent, gave us a warm smile and, having recognized Marius, told that Vinhelm was in his room on the second highest floor, and that he would send up a few pitchers of ale after us._

 _After thanking the man, Marius and I made our way up the building, evading drunken customers, smiling waitresses, and even loosely dressed courtesans. When we finally reached Vinhelm's room my rival knocked twice in quick succession and let himself in without waiting for a response. Upon hearing both a womanly shriek and a nearly high pitch start, that sounded more like a mouse then a man, I couldn't help but grin savagely._

Payback is a bitch.

 _My eyes instantly scanned the room after I got through the threshold, and made out three figures, all of which had cheeks flushed with red. Marius stood stiff in the corner left of the room's door and sported a deep red blush that made his dark freckles stand out even more. A shapely and buxom blonde-haired, blue woman, who didn't look to many years older than me, stood in the corner opposite to Marius, her face just nearly as red as my rival's. And still sitting on the inn's fine mattress was the muscular and scarred man who was supposedly Marius' father. He was wearing only a silk robe that was thankfully covering his waist and down, had dark hair with a touch of grey at the roots and hazel eyes, the right eye having an aged jagged scar marking it, and his faced was also sporting red cheeks…only his cheeks weren't red in embarrassment but, judging by the smell of the room, by alcohol._

 _Within the following fifteen seconds three things happened. One; the woman screamed in embarrassment. Two; I jumped out of the room and to the left of the door. Three; the women ran out of the room clutching the bed sheet to her front with one hand and what I assumed to be her clothes in the other. Four; the man I assumed to be Marius' father stood up, calling for the woman, Gabriella, to come back. Five; Marius let out a very unmanly like shriek, as I assumed Vinhelm's robes came undone._

Yes, payback is indeed a bitch.

" _Just say the word when your presentable." I called into the room, my voice no doubt carrying a cocksure tone reflective of my smug attitude. "I'll just wait out here until you're ready."_

" _Fuck you!" The father and the son responded in unison, one voice sounding jovial while the other sounded indignant. Both merely made me snort and laugh out loud._

" _Um sir?" A slightly accented voice got my attention._

 _Turning to the opposite direction that the blonde woman ran, my eyes fell upon the visage of a girl around my age dressed in frilly serving dress. Her hair was a light chocolate brown and done up in a plain bun that allowed full view of her delicate facial features, and her eyes reminded me of the color of caramel. She was nearly a full head and a half shorter than me making her seem younger, but her developing curves prevented anyone from mistaking her as a child._

" _My father sent me up with some refreshments for Lord Vinhelm." She continued after getting my attention._

" _Ah." My smile stretched a bit as possible mischief ran through my mind._

Naw, she is innocent in all this and I'm not that cruel.

" _I apologize Miss." I halted her with an arm in front of the door as she tried to go around me to get into the room. "But Lord Vinhelm is not currently presentable, as his son no doubt found out when he entered a few moments ago. Marius made quite the interesting noise when his father tried to stand up without his robe correctly fashioned."_

 _Her eyes widened slightly as she pictured my words, before suddenly bursting out in giggles. Her humor was such that she started shaking and would have dropped her silver serving tray that held three large pitchers of ale if it were not for me relieving her of her burden momentarily. When her humor died down she reclaimed her tray from me and thanked me with a smile._

 _That is when she noticed my attention hogging mabari, who had been begging scraps from all the serving girls we passed. Her caramel eyes went wide, and she cooed at him with a beautiful smile. Then, balancing her tray on one hand, she bent slightly and gave Chulainn a quick head rub with a promise to bring him a treat latter if he behaved._

" _Is this hansom dog yours, sir?" She turned her attention to me._

" _Yes, this is my partner Chulainn. He imprinted on me when I was five and has been as close to me as my brother since then."_

" _Chulainn?" She questioned. "What an interesting name for a dog, even a Ferelden mabari. Does it mean something?"_

" _It come from an Avvar legend. The Avvar warrior Chulainn was a savage and mighty warrior, but also intensely loyal and honorable. One legend even calls his 'the Guard-Dog' of the Sun-Hands clan."_

" _Ah, I see." She grins down at the subject of our conversation. "It fits then; he seems like noble protector type of dog, sort of like his master."_

 _I could feel the pink in my cheeks, but my smile also stretched a bit._

" _That is means a lot coming from such a fair woman such as yourself." I grinned as her face flushed. "My name is Artorias by the way."_

 _She flushed even more when she realized that she hadn't known my name until now and vice versa._

" _I'm Mariel." She responded. "I-"_

" _You can come on in now, Cousland boy!" The boisterous voice of Vinhelm Pentaghast interrupted Mariel. "No need to keep hiding like a shy lass."_

" _Maybe we can speak more latter, Mariel." I grinned sheepishly as I opened the door for her. She nodded at me with a pleasant smile in response as she placed the three pitchers of beer on the room's small bedside table before walking departing the room, my eyes noticing the swing of her hips as she left._

" _Pretty girl, that one." Vinhelm remarks, eyeing both me and Mariel. "But her father runs this inn; that fat Orlesian at the bar, and he is very protective of her. He also has an unusual number of powerful contacts, both legal and illegal."_

 _His warning was easily understood, and I nodded in his direction to show as much, before focusing my full attention on the older man who was eye my sword and posture._

" _I saw your match against my son earlier today." Vinhelm began without preamble. "I was genuinely impressed and surprised to see someone more skilled, and yet younger. From what I know of Ferelden's politics; the Cousland family is an important family, second only to the royal family, yet here you are; a sixteen-year-old semi-royal who can beat my own son in a duel. Tell me young man, who trained you to be such a warrior?"_

" _The Highever Master-of-Arms and various of my family's worn knights taught me a lot. The rest I taught myself until my father hired a veteran knight if the Rebellion to continue my education. Sir Farris is a thorny and serious man, but he knows his way around a sword and only accepted my very best."_

 _Marius' father grinned more and more as I described the hell that was Sir Farris' training, and when I finally finished he stared at me for a few seconds before standing up._

" _Artorias." The dragon hunter spoke seriously. "I was sent to Cumberland for two reasons. The first was to watch my son compete and then bring him back with me to Nevarra City to be inducted into the Order of Durandal, as he has already shown an interest in joining. The second reason was to keep an eye out for any other potential recruits. I believe you have more than what it takes to be a dragon hunter, would you like to accompany us back to the capital and join us in hunting the most dangerous creature to roam the surface?"_

 _I grinned savagely at the dark-haired man, my excitement causing Chulainn's ears to perk and his tail to wag._

" _Vinhelm, Marius; I was sold at dragon hunting."_

* * *

 _One Year Later_

 _Warm blood splashed on my chest, splattering my silverite armor with red and soaking my white tunic with gore. The dryvern, a monstrous hybrid of a drake and a wyvern, let out a high-pitched scream as my silverite longsword pierced its heart, and the beast's reptilian eyes rolled back in its head as the last vestiges of life fled its body._

 _At the other side of the dryvern's nest Marius used his longsword to separate the head of his prey from its body. His kill was significantly cleaner then my own but took him a whole minute longer than mine, and by the look on his face he realized this as well._

" _Not a single word, Artorias." Marius grouched._

 _I just laughed as I sheathed sword and laid my shield on the cave floor, then with flourish I drew my hunting knife. An hour latter Marius and I were riding away from the cavernous nest with two dryvern hides weighing down are travel packs._

 _Mountain slopes lined the right our path while rising and falling farm covered hills made up our left as we made our way back to the Hunter's Fell. Farmers tilling the field waved at our passing, while their children would sprint to the fence lining the road to get a glimpse at traveling dragon hunters. Every so often one or two of them would speak up, courageous boys asking about what prey we just slew; their eyes always lit up in awe when we replied 'dryvern', while spirited girls asked if we had saved any maidens from the beasts; their cheeks would pinken when we replied that they were maidens and they were safe from the creatures now. In the air the faint odor of fire drifted on the wind._

 _After a day of traveling we reached a hill on the outskirts of Hunter's Fell, the birthplace of the ruling Pentaghast family. Situated in a valley that separates two mountain ranges, Hunter's Fell would be an impossible place to settle if it wasn't for the ancient Tevinter aqueduct that carried fresh spring water down from the mountains into the city. The city's two gate, one facing north while the other facing south, were shaped into graceful arches. The special stone that made up a majority of the city structure gleamed in a metallic manor, dragon styled gargoyles lined the rooftops of the homes of the wealthy, and the Pentaghast keep in the city's center towered over everything else._

 _And, it was now crumbling and on fire._

 _The spring water that allowed for life to exist in the ancient city was now nothing more than mud on the ground outside the city due the aqueduct missing a huge chunk of its self. The gentle arches of the city fad crumbled into rubble, where the stone hadn't been melted into motel rock it reflected angry red with its metallic properties, the dragon gargoyles that were still intact bathed in noxious black fumes, and the Pentaghast keep was missing an entire wing and two stone towers._

 _Overhead the city was the beast responsible for the chaos. As large as the fortified keep that it destroyed, its black scales deflected arrow and magic alike. Adorning its head were a pair of curled horns and when it roared its gleaming white teeth were half the size as the men and women it ate, while its arms and legs that tore guardsmen apart sported five claws as large and sharp as great-swords._

 _It was a dragon unlike any seen in the past three Ages; one that's flames melted stone, steel, and flesh alike. A dragon whose fury and power could destroy one of humanity's cradles of civilization. An ancient High Dragon had awoken from its slumber only to find that the world outside its layer was not the same as it remember, and it did not like the changes at all._

 _The dragon's mighty wings cast a black shadow over what was left of Hunter's Fell as it roared its vitriol at the human that dared settle near it while it slept then, with a series of wing beats that filled the valley with wild winds, it disappeared over the horizon of the mountain range lining the east of the city._

" _Marius." My voice broke the silent spell that had enchanted us. "Ride for Nevarra City, gather the Order, use them to precure emergency supplies, and get back here as soon as possible."_

" _I will." My friend's voice was hard as steel and as sharp as obsidian. "And what will you be doing in the meantime."_

" _Whether I like it or not, I know how to lead a people in a time of crisis, you do not." My voice was firm, and in the back of my mind I remembered my father speaking with a tone similar more than once. "I will go down there and help the survivors so that they can survive until you return with help. Without someone who knows how to organize their efforts they will turn on each other and tear themselves apart."_

" _I understand." Marius turned his horse around. "Stay safe my friend, we will need you for what will inevitably come after relieving the city."_

" _Maker's speed." I responded before my partner pushed his horse into a gallop._

 _What come next indeed. After the Order arrives it will finally be time to hunt. Time to slay a dragon._

 _As my friend made for the next closest center of civilization, I lead my stead into the hell that was once Hunter's Fell._

* * *

 **Sooooo...**

 **Sorry about the wait girls and guys, but I said that this would be the chapter were stuff started happening and I hate breaking my word. Originally the second half of this chapter was the start of chapter 5 and was going to release two chapters at the same time, but then I had an epiphany and I got this out sooner than I expected.**

 **Anyway I hope liked it and are looking forward for the next chapter, it'll be a wild ride.**


	5. Chapter 5: Ambush

Disclaimer: I do not own either Dragon Age nor the Fate series, and both franchises belong to their respective owners.

The purpose of this content is not to make monetary profit, but to entertain and gain writing experience.

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Now, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 5

Artorias

 _It took Marius twelve days to return with the Order of Durandal, and in those twelve days I spent most of my time killing._

 _On the first day I killed a large number of criminals that had set up a base camp on the outskirts of the city. They had cut of their base from the rest of the city by piling up debris into walls leaving only one way to walk into the criminal stronghold. The criminals would leave each morning to plunder different parts of the city and return before the sun would set, bring with them gold, silver, treasures, men, women, and children. I struck at midday, when the base was least guarded and most vulnerable, and after the crooks were dead, and their abductees released from their bonds but still safe within the makeshift walls, I waited. Every time a group of highwaymen returned from their barbarity they would barely have time to realize something was wrong before I removed their heads._

 _After the first day I got volunteers from those abducted to guard the entrance while I marched deeper into the ruined city. For three days I walked the streets aimlessly; killing murderer, slaughtering rapists, and dismembering looters, and by doing so I saved many innocents. Those I saved I lead back to the safe area I had set up when sun set before heading back out when the sun rose. By the fourth day most of the city had heard of me, and all petty criminals spoke in hushed tones about the 'Sword of Justice'._

 _On the fifth day my camp of survivors and I were meet by a pleasant surprise. A high-ranking guardsman by the name of Tiven had gathered the surviving, loyal members of the city guard, and volunteered to help protect the survivors I had gathered and help me save more. Tiven had even had the key to the city guard's armory and used the weapons within to arm the militia that had grown from the survivor's ranks._

 _On the sixth day my new allies and I plunged deeper into the city than I had before. We slew many lawless men and women, saved many more innocents, and even made contact with an elf from the city's alienage._

 _I spent the seventh day gathering weapons leftover from the criminals killed throughout the week and delivering them to the alienage, so the elves that lived there could protect themselves. During my delivery I had to kill many a bandit, thief, and opportunist; and even after reaching the abode of the elves I helped them repel an assault on their homes from militant dragon cultists._

 _On the eighth day the survivor's stronghold was attacked. Criminals, cultists, slavers, and mercenaries all assaulted our fortress of debris and met with the edge of mine, and the guardsmen's steel. The enemy attacked in increasingly growing waves, and by sunset my allies and I were exhausted. The last attack of the day was to be the biggest and my side would have been overrun if it were not for the last-minute intervention of the elvish archers on the roof-tops providing covering fire while being protected by warriors outfitted with the gear that I had given them. By the end of the eighth day all people in the city had heard of and feared the 'Blood Knight' who survived the attack completely covered in the blood of his enemies and stood on top of a mountain of their corpses to protect the city survivors._

 _On the ninth day I went on the offensive. With a combined squad of elves and guardsmen I delved deep into the city to permanently wipe out the weakest of the criminal elements still infesting the city. Cultist blood covered the entirety of my silverite sword and colored my armor dark crimson by midday, and by doing so I had made a new ally._

 _Brydrin Lavellan, an elf from the Dalish clan Lavellan, had been tracking the dragon's trail through the Nevarran mountains when cultists had captured her. They had brought her to Hunter's Fell so that the cult leader, a blood-mage that had tricked the cultists into thinking that his magic was a gift from the dragon, could perform a ritual that they believed would draw the dragon out of its lair and allow them to control it. I had managed to save her just before the ritual called for her death, and together with the help of the city elf and guardsman joint assault force we managed to destroy the cult. Brydrin revealed herself to be a powerful mage as she overpowered the cultist blood-mage without help, and even use her staff's blade end as a spear at the same time._

 _After destroying the cultists, Brydrin agreed to help me bring order to the city in return for my saving her life. Together we used her magic to sneak into the hideout of the criminal gang that had become the largest criminal element in the city. There I quietly broke the gang's leader before killing all his lieutenants. Brydrin and I then sneaked back out leaving the gang to collapse on its self and splinter into smaller, weaker gangs._

 _On the tenth day the Lavellan clan came to the city in search of their missing mage but agreed to help kill the Tevinter slavers who had taken residence in the opposite side of the city for the scum had managed to capture a few of the clan's scouts that were in the area, along with many Hunter's Fell civilians; both human and city elf alike. A captured Tevinter message runner informed us that the captured would be shipped out of the city soon, convincing us that a hasty attack was necessary. Again, I left the safe area I set up with a force of men and elves at my back, however this time the assault force had new additions in Dalish warriors and archers, and volunteering survivors who new men or women that had been captured by the slavers._

 _This assault was much bloodier and took nearly the entire day, but in the end, all the slavers were put to the sword or hung from a rope. By the end of the tenth day the people of the city had dubbed me 'the Second Dragon' of the 'Dragon Knight' for my sword which had been enchanted by Brydrin to catch fire when I spoke a specific pass phrase._

 _The eleventh and twelfth days were much calmer with the biggest threats taken care of, now the only large concern was forming parties of scavengers who would be escorted deeper into the city to secure food and water, and I was stuck behind desk for long periods organizing said scavenger parties. Brydrin and I had become friends in the short time since we had met and, when we weren't called out of the safe areas to help clean up any of the remaining gangs, she spent her time keeping company while I was stuck behind a desk. We spent our time learning about each other, talking about our cultures, and speaking about the dragon that had caused the chaos._

 _At sundown on the twelfth day Marius crested the top of the hill we had separated and at his back was the full force of the Order of Durandal and much of the Nevarran military, ready to restore order to the city._

* * *

" _Welcome to Hunter's Respite, Marius." I grinned tiredly at my friend as he walked into my makeshift office._

" _Artorias!" The Nevarran exclaimed. I stood up as he approached and embraced me. "Or should I say Sir Dragon Knight, ha! My friend is even half the stuff the survivors say true? That you massacred a cult, became a Crow and assassinated a gang boss, and that you burned a band of Tevinter slavers at the stake?"_

" _One burning Tevinter falls on a stake and suddenly you're some sort of Impaler." I sigh at Marius' words. "As for the other things; yes, I wiped out a dragon cult, but I had help, and no I'm not a Crow but a new friend of mine did use a spell to turn me invisible so I could kill the leader of the Fell Mob."_

 _Marius' laughter brought a grin to my face, a rare sight that only my closest confidants within my allies in the city ever saw. One of those few took that moment to enter the room and her mischief's grin caused a spark of dread to travel up my spine._

" _Oh Artorias!" A melodious sing-song voice cut off my dragon hunting partner before he could respond. "Guess who just got permission from your shem organization's leader to assist in said organization's dragon hunt?"_

 _At 4'8 Brydrin Lavellan was short even by elf standards. Her shining gold hair fell freely to her waist, entirely unadorned apart from a shining emerald hair clip in the shape of a leaf that she wore above her right eye. She wore a dark green tunic underneath a sliver iron-bark chest plate with matching vambraces and grieves over her white gloves and breaches. Slung over her back, the heart shaped blade of her spear-staff Romanlia sparkled brilliant purple in the office's candlelight. Her smile stretched across her pale face and her light purple eyes shined with cheerfulness, as she bypassed my hunting partner to stand at my side._

" _Hello to you too, Brydrin." I sighed good naturedly. "Allow me to introduce you two. Brydrin this Marius Pentaghast, my hunting partner within the Order of Durandal. Marius this is Brydrin Lavellan, Second of the clan's Keeper and the mage that helped me bring order to the city."_

" _I sincerely thank you lady Brydrin." Marius bowed his head in the elf's direction. "My partner tends to get in over his head. I hope he wasn't too much trouble."_

" _Not too much trouble no." Brydrin laughed at Marius' rib of me. "At least it wasn't anything I couldn't handle."_

" _Ha-ha." I false laughed. "I so glad you both can find amusement at my expense and I so wish you could continue doing so all day, but Marius I need information. Has someone accompanied you who can relieve me from watching over the city? When is the Order leaving Hunter's Fell to hunt the dragon? Am I going to be allowed to assist in the hunt?"_

 _Marius and Brydrin's smiles died as I turned the topic of our discussion to such serious matters._

" _The King sent a seneschal to manage the rebuilding of Hunter's Fell and he has already begun with his work. In fact, he asked that I deliver the news to you when I came to speak to you. As for the dragon; the Grandmaster has commanded that the Order prepare immediately. And yes, you will be involved in the hunt."_

" _Good." I grunted as I stood up from my desk. "Brydrin, I'm glad that you'll be joining us on this hunt, but I hope you've talked to that Keeper of yours. I don't want her turning that glare of hers on me again."_

 _Said elf chuckled nervously which got both Marius and I to laugh, and together we left the cramped office space behind._

* * *

 _There is a tradition in Nevarra that involves naming dragons. For a dragon to be recognized with a name other that its breed it must fulfill three requirements._

 _The beast must have reached the High Dragon stage in its life cycle._

 _The High Dragon must be either much larger than normal High Dragons or must be showing signs of unique mutations._

 _The Dragon must have had a serious impact on the Nevarra of one of the surrounding nations._

 _The dragon that burned Hunter's Fell to ruin fulfilled all those requirements, and as such, was given a name that would going down in history books and had a Dragon Hunter Order assigned to kill it._

 _Fafnir, was the name given to the destroyer of Hunter's Fell._

 _And the Order of Durandal was give the task of slaying the beast and avenging all those the dragon had killed._

 _The night I left Hunter's Fell, the Grandmaster of Durandal had personally explained the plan to kill the beast to Marius, Brydrin, and myself. Two days later I stood on a cliff overlooking a grassy plain, empty except for three cows and four goats that had just had their throats slit._

 _The perfect bait for a trap laid for a Dragon of such infamy._

 _My men and I heard the beast long before we saw it. Its roar shook the stones next to my feet and vibrated my bones. When Marius galloped out of the woods thirty feet to the right of the grassy field that held our trap, I took only a second to verify that my friend was unharmed before looking above the woods that he had road out of._

 _Bursting out of a low flying cloud came the demonic hunter of the skies, and with liberal use of my telescope I finally got a good look at my prey._

 _The dragon's general shape reminded me greatly of a sketch I once saw of an Abyssal High Dragon; larger than normal horns, skinny but maneuverable front legs, and large powerful hind legs, but never before seen mutations had warped said traits even more. The dragon's horns twisted around themselves like a ram's horns but ended in incredibly sharp points that were parallel to the monster's snout. The beast's front legs still looked smaller compared to its hind legs, but not by much and the claws on the front legs dripped a foul looking green ichor that melted any unfortunate trees it landed on. The dragon's back was covered in dark black scales that seemed to absorb the light around it, while its under scales were of a darker grey color that looked eerily steel like. Its wings stretched nearly twice as wide as the beast was tall, their membrane a similar color to Fafnir's under scales, and the dragon must have been at least eighty feet long._

 _And its eyes…Fafnir's green silted eyes looked ancient and held an unfathomable hatred for the world around it. Fafnir's poison colored eyes seemed to lock gazes with my sea-green orbs and for a moment we both just sized each other up, until the dragon noticed the free meal stain the grass red only a few feet away, and its gaze left me._

 _Marius, after seeing that the dragon he had lured had token the bait, abruptly turned his horse around and road back into the woods, already prepared for his next task in the plan._

 _Fafnir let its original prey go, no doubt forgetting about a measly horse and rider when a veritable feast was within it's grasp. The dragon circled the dead animals from the air; one, twice, three times, before gliding down and landing next to the meal. It opened its jaws and I saw its razor-sharp teeth, each one half as tall as a grown man, and then it tore into the cow nearest to its landing place._

 _I waited as it devoured the first offering and kept silent as it nearly devoured one of the goats whole. Finally, when it moved to get closer to the rest of the blood-stained animals I drew a whistle from my pocket and blew._

 _The shrill noise echoed throughout the mountain range, getting the dragon's attention and drawing Fafnir's eyes back towards me. That is when the dragon hunters of the Order of Durandal struck, just like we had planned._

 _Four large grass-covered tarps, one on each side of the beast, were moved away revealing four deeply dug trenches that surrounded Fafnir. Within each trench was over twenty grown men and women, and in a nearly synchronized fashion all the hunters that the dragon had its back to winded up and threw a thick chain with a weight on the end. The chains flew over the dragon's back and was caught neatly by the group in front of the beast. Fafnir must have caught on to our plan because he immediately began to breath a torrent of flame at the group that had cached the weighted chains, but a thick wall of stone rose up to protect the trench in response. The catching group then pulled the chains tight, putting pressure on Fafnir's back, as the groups to the side of the dragon stood up._

 _The group west of the dragon tossed their chains and the east group caught and fastened them before they tossed their own chains back. Only after both side had added their own significant pressure to the dragons back, did the group that the dragon was facing finally throw their chains to be received by the back group._

 _The end result of the maneuver was that the dragon was trapped under the weight of chains and the pressure keeping them taunt on its back, and dragon that couldn't move made an easy target for the cart-driven ballista that I had hidden in the woods behind me. I had ordered that the siege weapons moved out of their hiding place the second I saw that the first chains had been fashioned, and by the time that all the chains were in place the weapons were in place and aiming at the beast._

" _FIRE!" I screamed over the sound of Fafnir's bellows._

 _Seven bastille bolts the size of a man's arm with points of pointed tips dipped in silverite flew at speeds unfollowable by human eyes. Six of the seven hit, the seventh digging into the ground in front of the target, and three of the six ripped through Fafnir's more delicate wing membrane, one of the higher priority targets on the beast. The other three strike the dragon's scaled hide, hurting it by the sound of its screech, but not drawing blood._

 _With a quick glance I note the three ballista operators who deserve commendations and the one who needs more training. However, all the shooters do show proficiency by not waiting for further orders. The one who missed his first shoot is already firing his second while I muse, the bolt strike dragon squarely one the back, and the rest are already loading their second bolts._

 _The ballistae manage to get out three more volleys before Fafnir finally escapes the trap. The ancient dragons fire had quickly been melting through the chains that were drawn taut by its face, and after it finished with those the others that held it were much easier to destroy. The men in the trenches then did the sensible thing; ducked as low into the dug-up ground and waited for the mages assigned to each trench to erect thicker stone barriers to protect them. A few men screamed in pain as dragon-fire grazed them or when snapped chains whiplashed into them, but for most part they were spared the dragon's wroth, for Fafnir's new purpose was to escape back to her lair and heal up._

 _Her flight was severely hampered by the large tears in her wings, but she managed to get aloft. Her bellow of pain and fury shook the world, but instead of attacking she retreated, her black form diapering of the tree tops and back into the mountain range, right towards the direction Marius had road back to._

" _Karvin!" I barked, drawing the attention of the man the Grandmaster had placed as my second-in-command for the duration of the ambush stage of our hunt._

" _Yes, sir!" The straw-colored man around Fergus' age answered as he scurried to my side._

" _I'm leaving the clean up here up to you, Karvin." I commanded as I double checked my weapon, shied, and supplies. "That beast won't die easily and there is no way I'm going to miss out on the hunt of a life time. Remember, the injured take priority and the ones severely injured even more so. Thankfully the Crown has granted up limited use of the Circle's healers until this hunt is over, so make use of them, but make sure the men are respectful. I have a friend amongst the Circle healers and if she tells me that any man or woman a part of the Order does anything untoward to her or her fellows, I will flay the responsible party alive. Am I understood?"_

 _Despite being nearly seven years my elder, I was nearly a head taller than my second, and my friends had told me that my sea-green eyes can look downright dangerous in the right lighting. The combination must have looked quite intimidating because Karvin immediately blanched and whimpered something that sound enough like 'Yes Sir!' for me to accept. Then with my commands issued and my stuff packed I mounted my horse, whistled to get Chulainn's attention from the mabari treat I had given him to keep him quite throughout the ambush, and galloped in the direction Marius had road back towards and where Brydrin was still scouting, with my trusted companion running at my side._

 _A huge smile grew on my face at the thought of what would come after the four of us tracked down Fafnir's lair._

* * *

 _And... Cut! That's a wrap for today people._

 _I bet yall weren't expecting to hear from me so soon, but here I am._

 _Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are looking forward to the next one. We are finally gonna finish off the first arch of the story._

 _Glader out._


	6. Chapter 6: Blood

**Hello wonderful people of the interwebs, it's your friendly neighborhood Glader! Sorry if I kept you waiting but I wanted to only put my best into this chapter for you all. I feel good about this chapter but I do know that it could be better. Still I hope you all enjoy it, and if you have any constructive criticism don't feel afraid to review or PM me.**

 **I do not own Dragon Age or the Fate series.**

 **Please support the official release.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Blood

Artorias

 _Fafnir's lair turned out to be, unsurprisingly, a large cave carved out of the side of a mountain. What was surprising was how deep into the mountain that the cave went. Marius, Brydrin, and I walked for nearly an hour after entering the cave before we finally found signs of Fafnir dwelling. The cave that we had been walking in opened into a much larger cavern, one more then big enough to house three dragons of Fafnir's size. The floor of the cavern, much like the floor of the cave we had traveled, was covered in claw marks, and the cavern walls were covered in scratch marks most likely done by the dragon's scales and burn marks. Lining the wall opposite to the entrance were piles of gold and silver coins, intricate statues made from precious metals, an innumerable number of gems, a dozen treasure chests filled to the brim with expensive trinkets, and even a few beautifully crafted weapons that were buried in the treasure hoard._

 _Situated in the middle of the large was our target who had noticed us before we even set foot into her domain. Fafnir's poison green eyes stared balefully at us who dared intrude on her territory, but when she saw our drawn weapons she knew exactly why we had come. Her wings were damaged and, while she had managed to fly away from the ambush, she wouldn't be able to fly again until her wings healed._

 _She was stuck here with us and us with her, and only one side would be leaving this dark place alive._

" _Mari-!" My words were cut off as Fafnir attacked. Furious red flame tinged with blue soared at us and barely had time to raise my shield to protect my group. On the front of my shield a series of lyrium-engraved runes glowed bright blue and the flames halted within inches of my shield. Unfortunately, even a master level rune of fire protection can't fully protect one from something as potent as dragon fire, meaning that even though the fire was halted the heat was not and was causing the skin of my left arm to bubble slightly beneath my heavy chainmail._

 _Marius, Brydrin and Chulainn, who were directly behind me as planned, leaped to escape the fire's path; Marius using the identical rune on his shield to protect him and my dog, and Brydrin using a spell that covered her in a suit of earthen armor as protection from any flames that flowed around me._

 _The second I felt them leave my shadow my shield dropped from my arm and I dove to my left, through the edge of the fire, as the rune on my shield finally failed and the shield was turned into molten metal in seconds. As I dashed to get out of the flames a sensation I can only describe as being submerged in breathable water overtook me, but from that point when the dragon fire washed over me I didn't even feel the heat that was supposed to accompany it._

Good timing on the barrier, Brydrin.

 _I dashed towards Fafnir's position the second I escaped the flames, and the dragon, after seeing that her fire hadn't burned any of us to a crisp, tapered off her flaming breath and charged us. Her claw would have crushed me had I not dodged, and as a spell from Brydrin caught Fafnir's attention, I struck._

 _I stabbed my siverite sword into where Fafnir's paws turned into claws and the dragon shrieked as the blade dug into her body. I twisted the sword painfully, severing the fragile tendons that attached to the base of the claw, and by the end the claw was dangling from Fafnir's hand by just a few stings of meat. Regrettably, I had to abandon my sword in Fafnir's body as she cradled her injured limb and glared at me._

 _However, before she could act Marius rushed at her side and swung his sword at her belly. A large ringing sound echoed through the chamber as my friend's sword broke in two pieces, and his armored body was sent flying into the treasure hoard as Fafnir swatted at him with her tail. The only reason Marius survived was that Brydrin managed to cast a hasty barrier and regeneration charm on him before the dragon smacked him._

" _Heal Maris!" I ordered my mage friend. "I'll distract her until you're done."_

 _Without waiting from Brydrin's reply I ran and circled around the beast's side opposite to here injured hand. Her attention was still on Marius, and now Brydrin as he moved to help him, when I reached for her injured claw and_ _ **pulled.**_ _Fafnir screamed in pain as I ripped her dangling claw from her hand, and I jumped back to dodge her other hand as she swiped at me with her other hand. Seeing that she had missed me, Fafnir roared at me with all her anger and fury, the sheer force of her cry nearly throwing me onto my back._

 _As I recovered from her dizzying roar Fafnir stomped at me with her jaws opened wide and her razor-sharp fangs thirsting for my blood. At the last moment I managed to roll to my right, just missing being skewered on Fafnir's canine, and as I got back onto my feet I swung with the claw I had stolen from Fafnir. My makeshift weapon arched through the air and dug its self into Fafnir's left eyes, and her scream of pain stunned me again._

 _This time I didn't manage to recover in time and while I tried to jump out of the path of her mouth again, she managed to catch my left leg in her mouth and used it to pull me into the air. She shook her head left and right, whipping me along for the ride, and pure agony tore its way through me as a scream my leg bones shattered at the violent movement. Fafnir tossed me into the air before catching me, this time her one of her fangs piecing my chest piece and digging deep into my ribs, but I managed to wrap my hands around that fang before she shook again, minimalizing the damage the tooth did as it moved around inside of me. Then the dragon released me, and I went flying into a pile of gold and silver coins._

 _The treasure had managed to break my momentum and I survived a crash that should have killed me, but the dragon's actions had rent my armor asunder, and most of it fell of my body as I forced a health poultice down my throat, dumbing the pain. My sea-green eyes meet with her remaining poison-green orb as she opened her jaw again, fire once again licking from inside her throat ready to consume anything before it._

 _The flames were thrown off course as Fafnir hisses in pain, and out from behind the beast I saw my trusted mabari tearing a large chunk out of the dragon's wings. Every time Chulainn would touch the ground he would quickly back away from the dragon, so he could get a running start before leaping onto Fafnir's wings. From there his claws and nature would ensure that he cut huge sloughs of wing membrane as he returned to the ground. But, after Chulainn touched back onto the floor, Fafnir lashed out at the war dog with huge tail._

" _Chu, dodge!" I cried out and tried to stand up, red spittle accompanying my words as agony rocked through me and I fell onto my knees._

 _Chulainn had managed to avoid the dangerous appendage by sprinting beneath the dragon's and out the other side, but now the mabari was stuck on the defensive. He was able to skirt around any attack Fafnir threw at him with superior speed, but with out help he would be overcome at some point._

Think! Think! I need to do something, or we are going to die!

 _I curled my fists in frustration and slammed my fist into the pile of gold beneath me, causing another spasm of pain to travel up my body from my wound and forced my eyes shut. When the pain was gone, and I managed to reopen my eyes, my gaze fell on something I hadn't noticed before._

 _My fist had slammed onto not the cave floor, but the flat of a huge blade buried beneath the sea of coins. With some difficulty I succeeded in pulling the great-sword from the under the coins and by doing so I was greeted by the sight of the most beautiful sword I had ever seen._

 _The sword's dark leather handle was large and unadorned, except for deep brilliant blue gem that was situated between where a warrior would put his hands to hold the sword. The cross-guard was decorated with a simple cross and slightly flared at the ends with detailed ends. The blade its self was wide at the base and had three diamond shapes that connected to each other and the cross that decorated the cross-guard and traveled half way up the blade before stopping in the middle. The rest of the blade was unadorned, and in total the sword was a bit bigger than I was, but it shimmered unlike any sword I had ever seen, and just by looking at I knew that with it I could slay Fafnir is only I stand up._

 _And from deep in my soul something called out to the beautiful sword._

Balmung, Felling of the Sky Demon.

 _As if hearing my thoughts Brydrin at appeared at my side with Marius not far behind her. The elf just looked at me, her face full of worry, before gulping down a flask of lyrium and kneeling next to me, healing magic flowing from her hands into my wounds. Marius was walking with a slight limp and a large crack ran its way through his chest plate, but he looked a lot better than when Fafnir hit him with her tail._

" _We can't keep this up." Marius grunted as he looked down at me. "If we don't end this soon Fafnir will be able to gobble us up after exhaustion deprives us of the ability to move."_

 _I agreed with him as I watch my loyal war hound just barely dodge another swipe of Fafnir's claws._

" _Brydrin." I coughed up a glob of blood and spittle. "Can you fix up my leg enough so that I can move? I can slather a health poultice on the chest wound to block out the pain from it, but I have a plan and for it to be successful I need to be able to use my broken leg."_

 _The elven mage frowned and looked at me with disapproval at my decision but nodded none the less and moved her glowing hand to injured leg._

" _Marius." I got my friend's attention. "I need you to help Chulainn distract Fafnir. Use the claw that I used to injure her, I heard it fall onto the ground somewhere around us."_

 _Marius nodded at me in response and ran off to my right, barely stopping to bend over and snag Fafnir's fallen claw that was still warm with her blood, and then ran at the dragon that was trying to devour my dog. My hunting partner once again charged the dragon's side and swung his weapon at the beast's belly, only this time his weapon bit deep into Fafnir's side and her screech echoed throughout the large cavern._

 _With the dragon's attention firmly divided between a speedy and cunning mabari, and my claw wielding partner, I pulled my last healt poultice out of my satchel and pored the soupy substance onto the whole in my stomach. The thick liquid burned and sent a ripple of pain through my body, but before long everything above my legs and below my chest just felt numb. Then I knew my leg was good enough to walk on when my mage friend offered me her hand to help me to my feet._

" _I did what I could, and you will be able to put weight on it, but I will need to look at it again after the bitch is dead."_

 _I grunted my understanding back to her and flashed her a quick, bloody grin, before I reached down and grasped the hilt of the great-sword I had dug out of the treasure pile. Balmung, being a sword longer then I was tall, was about as heavy as I expected and took all my upper body strength to stay standing with it in my grasp. Its beautiful unidentifiable metal shimmered in the low light of the cavern, and its edge looked un-dulled despite the many years it undoubtable spent under a pile of treasure._

 _And as my grip settled with my right hand above the blue jewel and my left below it, I just felt_ _ **right.**_

 _With a wicked grin I began limping my way closer to the beast as I called out to the Dalish behind me._

" _It's time to end this Brydrin, time for the final push. Go help Marius piss of Fafnir, get her to breath fire at you two then sit back and leave it to me."_

" _I hope you know what your doing." Brydrin responded before sprinting off to convey my message to my partner while the dragon's attention was on the war hound that was tearing up her wing._

 _Together the human and the elf ran at the dragon's back, Brydrin launched a plethora of stone spikes that, while drawing blood, must have had enough momentum behind them to break bones, and Marius impaled Fafnir's tail with the claw that he was using as a weapon._

 _The black dragon screamed in agony, spinning to face the surprise assault and, once seeing who dared attack her from behind, bent her neck to be parallel with the ground and released a gout of stone-melting dragon fire. Marius' enchanted shield held back the flame for all of three seconds, but it was enough time for Brydrin to use the last of her energy to form a thick wall of stone protect the pair before falling to her knees._

 _With the Fafnir's attention focused solely on trying to consume my friends in flame, I had the perfect opportunity to act. Before me lied two choices; one, take the sword and sacrifice my friends to run away, or two, attack the beast a bet everything on my last-ditch effort._

Remember pup; you are a Cousland, and Couslands earn their laurels. Our family gained its status by doing what had to be done and not taking the easy path.

 _A wide, bloodthirsty grin spread across my face and I charged the dragon._

 _Every step hurt, especially when I stepped forward with my hastily healed leg, but within seconds I had reached my target and, while Fafnir had noticed me as I got within her field of vision, she didn't notice me until it was too late._

 _My newly acquired great-sword cut through the bottom of Fafnir's throat like a hot knife cuts through butter, and her scalding hot blood fell upon me like a waterfall. The dragon managed to rear her head and neck away from me in time to avoid having her entire throat slit all at once, but the wound was bad enough that she was going to bleed out soon enough._

 _We, the dragon hunters, had won and we all knew it. And that stroked Fafnir's furry like nothing else._

 _Her roar once again shook the entire cave system and caused stalactites on the unseen cave roof above to fall and shatter upon the floor. Luckily, I had managed to cover my ears in time to block out most of the dragon's scream, but the noise dill stun me long enough for Fafnir to launch one final, desperate attack against me._

 _By the time I had shook off the effects of her screech her open maw was right above me. Her impossibly sharp teeth gleamed in murderous glee and her blood, serpentine tongue snaked out to taste what would be her last meal._

 _I responded with the only think that came to mind._

 _As her mouth closed arouSecondnd me, as one of her fangs plunged through my right pectoral, another plied into my upper back, and yet another ripped apart skin from my collar-bone to my stomach, as she tried her damnedest to end my life I did the same by plunging Balmung into the inside of Fafnir's mouth._

 _The pain from Fafnir's fangs was indescribable, but as more blistering blood erupted from the inside of her jaw into my eyes and mouth, I knew that I was the victor. The pain of my last blow had shocked the ancient dragon into reopening her jaws, inadvertently removing her teeth from inside my body, and with the grace of someone who just got impaled three times I stumbled to look my prey in the eyes._

 _For the last time poison-green and sea-green orbs meet. I let out a bark like laugh of exhaustion and exhilaration, and Fafnir let out a snort and rolled her remaining eye as if she couldn't believe the stupid stunt I had just pulled off. Then she closed her eye and released one last shuttering breath._

 _Then I collapsed, my sword splashing as it landed by my side and my body falling head first into the growing pool of dragon blood that was already up to my shins. My last coherent thoughts:_

I did it. I Slayed the Dragon!

* * *

 **Arc 1: Fafnir's Bane; Complete!**

* * *

 **Phew! Fafnir lies dead and Artorias faint lies victorious in her blood. Many of you who are familiar with the fate series or with the legend of Siegfried will know the consequences of this but please don't spoil it for those who don't know and want to learn through the next chapter.**

 **Also some announcements.**

 **First: After this story reaches the end of the Ostigar Arc I will be splitting my attention between Dragon Slayer and the second story in this series; Dragon Age 2: A Wizard's Beginning.**

 **Second: After I finish with the first DA2 arc I'm planning on starting a third story unaffiliated with the series that this one will be apart of because I don't want to burn myself out by working on only the same universe. I want you all, my readers to have some impact on what I am going to write, but I will have the final say.**

 **So... What idea sounds more appealing for a story?**

 **a) Harry Potter/Dark Souls crossover set in the Harry Potter universe but the souls of characters from Dark Souls are reincarnated into the people in the Potterverse. *(Warning; this option could lead to a overpowered Harry later on down the road.)**

 **b) Dark Souls/Skyrim crossover set in Skyrim. The Dragonborn is a reborn dragon (not going to say which one, but he is my favorite) from the Souls franchise and his goals are much different from your traditional heroes.**

 **c) Highschool DxD/Code Geass crossover with Akito as the main character. (Warning; my knowledge on the DxD franchise is much less thorough then the other fandoms on this list so I might not do very well or may not be able to take it very far.)**

 **Any way I hope you all liked the chapter and are looking forward to returning to present day Artorias, and let me know what idea you all like for a third story, Glader out!**


	7. Chapter 7: Fire

Finally finished it and got it out.

I'm sorry about how much time it took, and I especially apologize to CaedmonCoulsand, to whom I told that this chapter would be out by last Friday.

I do not own Dragon Age or the Fate Series,

please support the official release.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 7: Fire

Silence permeated the dining hall after I finished telling my tale, and those that had stayed for the entirety of my telling looked at me with different expressions of shock. Father's eyes were wide and his mouth gasping for words that wouldn't come, Mother had tears in her eyes as she tried to see through my tunic to see the large scars underneath, Oren had fallen asleep halfway through my tale and Oriana had carried him to bed, Uncle Rendon had begged off to bed not long Oren had succumbed to slumber, and Warden Duncan was staring at me intently while his recruit just stared at me with wide eyes.

When Father finally found his voice, it came out hoarse and wracked with emotion. "Son, please don't tell such outlandish stories. It worries your mother and I."

"Father." I frowned at the man who raised me, and I unbuttoned the top buttons of my tunic. "It pains me immensely that you would think that I would lie to either of you about something like this."

Then I pulled down slightly at my unfastened tunic revealing the top of a very large scar, and Mother jumped from her chair and wrapped me in a desperate hug. Tears fell from the eyes that she passed onto me, and her hand grasped at me as if I might turn into sand before her very eyes. And from her lips came a jumble of words, but only bits of pieces of it made any sense to Father or me.

"Stupid! Stupid!" … "I did not go through hell for you to throw your life away to a dragon!" … "Where in Andraste's name did I go wrong in raising you!?"

Father on the other hand contemplated my words, his hand on his chin and his eyes silently surveying my attempts to comfort or placate her. As I gazed back at him, his blue orbs flickered from mother and I to my sheathed great-sword then back, no doubt trying to fathom the dragon-slaying weapon. After a few more seconds of thinking Father rubbed the bridge of his nose before making eye contact with me again.

"I'm sorry Artorias." He apologized. "I did not mean to imply that you were lying to us, but no parent wants to hear about how their child nearly got killed by a giant fire-breathing lizard, pup."

I smiled at Father's attempt to lighten the mood and with a nod I accepted his apology. Turning my attention to Mother, I wrapped my arms around her and whispered my apology to her.

"I'm sorry I worried you Mother, the last thing I ever meant to do was hurt you. But I'm fine now and stronger than ever."

Mother needed a few more moments to compose herself and after she did so her hands instantly began fussing with my now white hair. "So, your hair and skin color are different because of the dragon's blood?"

"Yes." I answered. "Normal high dragon blood has powerful alchemical properties even after being preserved for centuries on end, but even amongst high dragons Fafnir was different. Draconologists who came to study Fafnir's corps shared with me that Fafnir was likely a very ancient Abyssal High Dragon that mutated over the centuries, and that my change of hair and skin color was a result of her fresh, alchemically chaotic blood drenching my skin and mixing with my blood through the wounds she inflicted in my chest."

"Were there any side effects?" Duncan suddenly blurted out, speaking for the first time since I began my story. His question cut-off both Mother and Father, but after hearing his question they merely exchanged glances before gazing at me expectedly.

"Yes, there have been side effects and I'm still not sure if I have come to recognize all of them yet." I grimaced, hoping they wouldn't had brought up the topic. "Other then the surface changes my skin is now much harder to cut than it was before, and I'm much physically stronger than before. I've also noticed that I don't get tired as quickly in a fight as I did before killing Fafnir, but I don't know if that is because of my changes or because of my continued training."

Duncan seemed to accept my answer and had an expression of deep thinking on his face, as did my parents. With the room silent for a few moments I waved down a servant to fill my goblet with some more wine and bring me another serving of, now cold, pig. However, before I could take a bite a bubbly, beautiful voice broke the room's silence.

"What happened to Fafnir's body?" The young woman sitting next to Duncan blurted out, and promptly blushed at her outburst.

"Well." I drew out with a smile as I set down my silverware, ready for another round of questions. "After the draconologists studied her and took some small studies to take back with them to the University of Orlais, my new Order and I harvested her. Her skull currently occupies an honored place above my chair in The Order's headquarters, while I and most of my high-ranking officers and knights wear armor made, at least partially, out of her bones or scales. Within the Order's ranks there are twenty swords that were made from Fafnir's claws, and their wielders serve as my honor guard when I go into battle. And the Order currently is preserving a large amount of her blood for any future recruits that wish to become reavers."

The woman, whom I know noticed had a mage's staff leaning next to her seat, looked both impressed and slightly saddened as I counted off how much Fafnir now did for the Order of Balmung in death. Her mismatched eyes looked longingly at my armor and gauntlets for a moment before she seemed to push whatever she had been thinking from her mind.

"You wouldn't have enough of her bones left to forge an ultra-powerful and totally magnificent staff from, would you?" She joked half-heartedly.

 _Ah…that explains it._

"I might." I took a sip from my goblet, watching as her expression lit up despite her comment being a jest, more than an actual question. "But first, might I know your name?"

Her beautiful face instantly went scarlet, when she realized that she had just asked someone she barely knew for an incredibly rare recourse without even introducing herself. My parents laughed lightly, and I chuckled at the young woman's sudden blush, and even Duncan's solemn expression broke into a small grin.

"I apologize, my lord." The mage returned a smiled sheepishly. "I am Shiara Amell, a Grey Warden recruit from Ferelden's Circle of Magi."

My smile covered up my surprise at her words and when I took another look at her, I did so under a new light. Her eyes, while beautiful and different colors, held a determination in them that not many could claim, and she held herself in a manner that spoke of a newfound pride.

 _I wonder, is she a volunteer or a conscript? I'm inclined to say volunteer._

"How did you join the Wardens, Miss Amell."

"Please call me Shiara. Miss Amell sounds too much like what my tutors were mad at me." We both laughed at her small joke, before she continued. "As for how I joined the Wardens…it is complicated, my lord."

Shiara's bright eyes dimmed slightly as the weight of whatever befell her before coming here, again settled on her shoulders. Sighing at the hard look my parents were now giving me I took another, bigger sip of my wine and smiled kindly at the woman.

"We all have things we'd rather not talk about, Shiara. And while we have time if you wish to tell us, and I promise to listen to your whole story before making judgments, you do not need to share anything with us if you don't feel comfortable doing so."

Shiara and Duncan's gazes bore into me with severity before breaking so that they could make eye contact with each other. A silent conversation was made between the two of them which ended with Duncan nodding his head in some sort of confirmation before he spoke again.

"Shiara, all that I can promise you is that I have known the Teyrn and Teyrna for years, and they are both good, fair people."

The former Circle Mage took another moment to compose herself and take a deep breath before steeling her nerves and speaking.

"Duncan conscripted me before the Templars of my Circle could execute me, though I had shared with him my interest in joining the Grey Wardens. One of my friends had been afraid that he would be put through the Right and had asked me for help in destroying the Templar's means of tracking him, but when we were caught he revealed that he practiced blood magic and used it to escape, leaving me and our other accomplice to be caught by the Templars. Because he revealed himself to be Blood Mage the Templars had to take into consideration that I might also be one as well. It is only through Duncan's intervention that I escaped the Sword of Mercy."

"You poor dear." Mother sighed softly, leaving my side and wrapping the young woman in a caring hug. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that."

"Miss Amell." Father intoned softly, staring into his goblet of wine as he absently swirled it in his hand. "As you are now destined to become a Grey Warden, a protector of all of Thedas, I cannot say that your life will be easy from here on. I cannot, in good consciousness lie to you in such a way, but I can say that as long as a Cousland rules Highever the Grey Wardens and their allies will always be welcomed within these walls. Please feel free come visit whenever you need assistance."

As Shiara's eyes started to water slightly an… interesting conversation I had with Alissa Bessren, whom I worked with on occasion after being granted the Order of Balmung, came to the forefront of my mind.

* * *

" _Wait just a second." I protested with wide eyes. "Most Magi Circles_ _ **don't**_ _allow mages to visit their families or have families of their own!?"_

 _Alissa seemed pleased with my incredulousness at the mere idea if her grateful smile meant anything. Her naked body slowly leaning down over mine might also have something to do with my conclusion as well._

" _Unfortunately." She whispered into my ear as her hands worked on removing the buckle from my breaches. "Nevarra is different from the rest of Thedas because of the importance the Mortalitasi in our culture, and the Nevarran Circles allow mages to raise their children and marry anyone other than nobility. Everywhere else, except for in Tevinter, when a female mage has a child; Templars will take the child away as soon as the child is healthy enough to travel to be raised in far away Circle or a Chantry orphanage."_

" _That is absolutely horrible!" I snarled, my eyes narrowing, the colors of the world around me losing some of its vibrancy but the small details becoming much easier to focus on. Everything only went back to normal as Alissa draped her bare arms around my neck and planted a tender kiss into the side of my neck._

" _I'm thankful that you care about the wellbeing of us mages, and of myself. It shows that you are a better man then most, and it is because of this that I have decided that I want this." Alissa's tanned face, shadowed by her rich brown hair that spilled from her head in lovely waves, lit up as a light pick blush shone on her face. "Artorias, would you please give me a family? I want a child; would you please give me one? We might never be able to marry because I have magic and you were a noble before you nearly got yourself killed slaying and ancient dragon, but if you were the father of my child I would be content knowing that his or her father loved them even if they were born with magic."_

 _Alissa's chocolate brown eyes stared longingly into my sea-green for a moment as silence befell my grand bedroom. Then I allowed a loving smile to overtake my usual expressionless mask and I pulled Alissa into a tender kiss._

* * *

 _With how most Circles are run, I imagine that Shiara doesn't have much experience with motherly or fatherly support._

As Mother and Father spoke encouragingly with the Warden Recruit, I turned my attention to her Commander and rescue.

"You did a good thing Commander Duncan." I spoke softly and raised my glass in salute of the man. "In a just world no person would be punished for trying to protect their friend from a fate worse than death."

Duncan's brow rose slightly in intrigue even as he nodded his head in thanks. "You are aware of what the Right of Tranquility entails?"

"You could say that." I mused slightly as I thought about all the time I spent with both Alissa and Brydrin individually, and the time the three of us spent together. "Let us just say that after I slew Fafnir, I spent a lot of time with quite of few mages; Circle and otherwise."

Again, Duncan looked at me thoughtfully, this time stoking his beard lightly, and my comment seemed to catch Shiara's attention after she regained her composure.

"That reminds me Lord Cousland." Shiara looked confused for the first time since I meet her. "With how much importance that the Nevarran King put on killing Fafnir, I can't imagine that you and your companions weren't rewarded for your services."

Instantly I palmed my face, embarrassed by my own forgetfulness.

"I can't believe I forgot to mention that." I whispered mostly to myself, but I wouldn't be surprised if the other heard me. "Well first, King Markus granted me nobility equal to the rank of Duke. Then he decided that as Fafnir's killer all the treasure that she had hoarded were mine to do with as I wished, though I had it split in thirds and gave one third to Brydrin and one third to Marius. And lastly, King Markus formed Order of Balmung and anointed me as its first Grandmaster, and that my new Order would only answer to me and the Crown of Nevarra."

And again, everyone in the room was left speechless at my accomplishments.

"Artorias." Father questioned slowly. "Why exactly did you return to Ferelden at a time like this?"

"I thought it would be obvious Father." I huffed at Father's subtle disapproval. "When I heard that Ferelden was under threat from the Darkspawn and word reached my ear of a Blight, I wanted to leave immediately to protect my Homeland. I only took so long because most of the Order of Balmung volunteered to accompany me and help protect what I held dear. They should be setting up a temporary camp along the Wounded Coast, and once I have your permission, Father, I will lead them to Ostagar so that we might assist the King."

"Absolutely not!" Mother's face had reddened with indigent and motherly rage, and our identical eyes locked in a battle of wills. "I have already sent one of my sons to fight Darkspawn in the south, I will not allow my only other child to do the same!"

Mother and my silent battle continued when I didn't immediately capitulate with her wish. For what felt like an eternity our wills and wishes battled and everyone in the room felt as the air in the dinning room turned tense. In the end the battle resulted in a draw, as Father broke up the thick atmosphere with his calm words.

"I think on that note we all should get some sleep. We can discuss this matter later, after everyone's tempers have cooled, and no matter our decisions the marrow will be a busy one that will require us all to have had an adequate night sleep to deal with."

 _And there it is, the reason Father was almost king. Even with a prince of Therin blood healthy and hearty._

Growing up with the man it was sometimes easy to forget just why Father was so well regarded. All Ferelden families; whether they hailed from alamarri or avvar blood, whether they were descended from those who fought for or against Calenhad, or whether they assisted or resisted the Orlesians I the occupation and rebellion, respected the Cousland name and what it represented. Combine that with that reputation with Fathers time-tested wisdom, unwavering drive, and known dedication to the whole of Ferelden got you a man was a king in all but name and blood. Father was knowledgeable to be a king, but had the humility not to take the position, and it was at moments like this that I could see why.

"In that case," I stood slowly from my seat and stretched quietly, though not quiet enough that faint popping noised couldn't be heard from my back. "I will retire to my room. Commander Duncan I hope have a pleasant dreams and a good night's sleep."

Absently I noted that the Warden Commander seemed to grimace at that that remark, but I filed that tidbit away for another day.

"Shiara, I wish the same for you and I promise that I will see about getting you bone of Fafnir's carved into a staff for you. Please consider it as a congratulatory gift for joining the Grey Wardens."

The young woman didn't flinch at the mention of sleep like her new superior, which I filled away as well, and in fact brightened considerably at the prospect of getting such a powerful new weapon.

"Mother, Father, I wish you a good night."

Then, after draining what was left in my goblet, I picked up Balmung from where the blade was propped up and whistled to get Chulainn's attention. I planted a kiss on both of my parent's cheeks, along with brief hug, before exiting the dining room for my old bedroom. My loyal mabari curled himself at the side of my bed ready to fall asleep as soon as I did so, and after quickly undressing I allowed myself to fall roughly onto my bed, reveling in the nostalgia it brought to my mind, before falling asleep within minutes of my head touching my pillow.

* * *

The smell of smoke and fire and blood, and the sound of screaming and barking roused me from unconsciousness, and for one long second, I thought I was back in Fafnir's lair about to be fried by her impossibly hot flames.

Then my eyes refocused to show my old room in Castle Cousland and my loyal war dog barking urgently, his attention rapidly switching from me to the room's door. Chulainn's look was one of anger and concern, and when I heard a loud bang and cursing as who ever was outside the door realized that said door was lock my hand instantly snatch the hand of Balmung from where it rested just next to my bed.

"Com'on, lets jus break open the door. Te litt'l lordling wil be easy killins." A nasally voice carried through the wooden door as I sprung to my feet, drawing my huge dragon slaying blade from its sheath.

Not a moment latter my bedroom door burst inwards as two armed men rushed in, their weapons held high as they charged me with gleeful bloodlust shining through their eyes. One man wielded a hand-axe in one hand with a small buckler adorning his free hand, while the other only had a plain straight sword raised high ready for a heavy downward strike.

They both died in less them ten seconds.

The man with the sword was faster than his more heavily armed companion and as such entered my range of attach first of the two. As Balmung cut through his legs above the knees, his face couldn't even keep up with the pace of events or come to terms with why he was headed face first for the stone floor. He only realized what was happening to him when Chulainn pounced on the hapless target and ripped his throat out with savage efficiently. The man didn't even have time to scream in fear or pain before he no longer could.

Similarly, the second man couldn't comprehend how quickly I had dispatched his comrade, and his mistake coasted him. After bringing my blade out of the arc that had dis-legged the first man, I brought my weapon in close to my body and lined it's point up with my line of sight. Then, with a push and twisting motion, Balmung lashed forward faster than even a snake could lunge. The second man blinked absently as he lost a feeling below his neck, and when he looked down to see what was wrong blinked again when he saw that my sword had pierced right through his buckler and more then half of the blade buried itself into his gut. The man would have been able to get a scream out if I hadn't quickly pulled Balmung out of its temporary sheath, and, with a spin, removed his head from his shoulders.

Before I had even finished beheading the man I was considering my next move, only for a horrid though sprung into my head.

 _Orianna and Oren sleep in the room right across from me!_

And before the dead man's head stopped rolling I was sprinting out of my room, aiming from the closed wooden door across the hall from mine.

Three more enemies occupied the hallway that separated my room from my sister-in-law's, but I barely payed them any mind. One enemy feel dead as I left my room, felled by an arrow to the eyes fired from my Mother who stood at the door to her and Father's room. The second was cut in two pieces evenly from waist and screamed in pain and terror as Chulainn fell upon him in a snarling rage. And the last's sword shattered into so many pieces of cheap metal trying to block my downward swing, his body finally split evenly in half from cranium to crotch as my shoulder made contact with Orianna's door and said door flew off its hinges.

Inside a bloody, but alive Halava Tabris stood protectively in front of a terrified, but equally alive Oren on the left side of the room. On the right side of the room a man dressed in the same armor as the ones that I had already slew stood over the dead body of my sister-in-law, his sword still wedged deep into her breast, right where her kind heart should have beated.

At the sight the world lost color but gained an incredible amount of detail and I charged the murderer with a snarl that would have sounded more at home coming from a dragon.

* * *

 **Soooo... whatcha think? One reviewer expressed interest in how this part of the story would change with Cousland's changes, and they may have seen something like this outcome occurring, but how about the rest of yall? Predictable? Surprising? Interesting? Boring?...**

 **Well, sorry again about the wait, but I hope you all can just consider that the chapter was worth the wait. Any constructive criticism is welcome and feel free to PM if you have questions, but I will be vague on plot details.**

 **I'm just realizing that I might read too much fanfiction to be effective fanfiction writer. Within the time between my last post and this post I have read though two who stories and taken a big chunk out of a third. **

**If your curious about what caught my interest the fics are:**

 **Herwald Von Einzberg and the Philosopher Stone/and the Chamber of Secrets. (A Harry Potter and Fate/Stay Night crossover)**

 **Paleblood.** **(A DanMachi/Bloodborne crossover.)**

 **Both stories are incredibly entertaining and well thought out, and both take their respective series' in interesting directions. I really recommend them.**

 **Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are looking forward for the next one!**

 **Glader out!**


	8. Chapter 8: Responsibility

Chapter 8: Responsibility

With my anger guiding me, Balmung removed the assassin's arm; shoulder to fingers, as easily as a knife would cut through freshly baked bread, and the now one-armed man screamed in terror as his blood gushed from his stump. Futilely the soldier tried to stem the loss of blood with his remaining arm, but with another flash of silver, Balmung solved that problem and his left forearm splattered blood on the two of us as it spun in the air. The assailant's cries reached a new height of hysteria as he fell to his knees, his eyes flickering between his two open wounds.

 _You don't get to die by the sword, Bastard! That death is too good for you._

With a thud I stabbed my supernatural sword into the stone floor of Castle Cousland, deep enough that it would stand straight up but still easy to retrieve, and stalked until I towered over the whimpering man.

"I don't have a lot of time, but I'm going to make your death incredibly painful for what you did to my family."

"No! Plea-"

My left armored hand squeezing the killer's throat abruptly ended the man's pathetic pleading, and then, with one hand, I raised Orianna's killer up and slammed him into the room's stone wall. He howled in pain as the back of his skull cracked, his spine and back bruised, and his remaining shoulder popped from its socket. At the same time, my right hand formed a fist and, before the killer could recover from being slammed into the wall, crashed straight into his ribs. Under my enhanced strength, the first punch shattered four of the assassin's ribs, and the shards were scattered into the man's intestines and stomach. The second punch broke the right half of the killer's sternum and collapsed his right lung. The third punch shattered his hip into a thousand pieces, and my last punch destroyed the collar bones left of his neck.

Then, with my rage spent the world returned to normal, I dropped the dying man onto the floor in a heap of blood, bone, and tears. The pain he would experience as his ripped stomach spilled acid into his blood-stream and his intestines would be excruciating; a suitable punishment for harming a member of my family, but practically merciful compared to what I would have done to him if I had more time. The man would die within the hour, if it wasn't by blood loss than the fire that he and his fellows had started within the castle would claim his life. Done with him, I retrieved Balmung from where I had stabbed it and returned the enchanted metal to its scabbard, before taking stock of the reactions of the others in the room.

Mother had fallen to her knees next to my sister-in-law's side, tears falling from her eyes as she questioned at who would order such depravity while Culainn was by her side attempting to confort her. Halava was staring intently at me, her knife still gripped in her dominant hand, and she had a look of wariness and unease on her face at the sight of my revenge but didn't raise her voice to comment about it. Her left hand she had wrapped protectively around my nephew, allowing him to sob into her shoulder. As our eyes meet she flickered her gaze to the door of Fergus' room, her message simple to understand.

 _We can't stay here. We have to keep moving._

"Mother." I whispered as I kneeled down to comfort her with a hug. "We have to push forward and escape. With most of our troops gone with Fergus there is no way the Castle can stand after a surprise assault like this. Orianna would want Oren to be kept safe so you have to save your grief for latter and let your rage guide your arrows."

My speech seemed to have some effect on her because she managed to shake her and wipe the tears from her eyes before glaring in the direction of the front gate.

"We need to know if anyone is still defending the castle." Mother spoke as she stood up from cradling my sister-in-law's dead body. "To that end we should make our way to the front gate. If the Maker smiles down on us we might find Sir Gilmore on the way there. After that we enact revenge on who ever did this to our family."

With a grim nod I turned away from mother and picked up the sword of the Amaranthine soldier and, with a quick knee strike, snapped the five-foot blade into a jagged two-foot short sword. Ignoring the looks of confusion on everyone's faces, I walked towards and kneeled in front of my nephew.

"Oren." I grabbed the four-year old's right hand and slowly curled it around the broken, but still deadly weapon's handle. "Things will only get more dangerous from here on out and, while Grandma and Halava and myself will do everything in our power to protect you, we might not be strong or fast enough to beat every enemy roaming the castle. If that is the case, you will need to be strong and use this to protect yourself long enough for one of us to help you. Can you do that for me, young Heir Cousland?"

For a moment the young boy just stared into the steel of the blade that was used to kill his mother, his eyes devoid of anything that wasn't fear and anxiety. But slowly a look that was equal parts hatred and courage brought color to his face and he tighten his grip on his new weapon, and I stood up and turned my back to him and the looks of disapproval the woman in the room were directing at me.

"That, young lord-to-be, is the weight of a weapon that can end a life. **Remember it. Understand it. Master it.** At the end of the day its weight is nothing compared to the weight of actually taking a life."

Next, I turned to my loyal war hound who had accompanied me throughout my life. "Culainn stay close to Oren. If any enemies get past me and close to him, kill them." The large Mabari barked in response and moved to stand next to my nephew.

With two strides I left my brother's desecrated room to face two new soldiers that had arrived in the living room hallway some time in between my slaughter of the last batch of Howe soldiers and the discovery of my dead sister. Bother men looked filthy with soot and dirt marring the skin under their helmets, and below that it was easy to see that neither of them was all that attractive looking or impressive physically.

"-erd that any man that kills a part of Cousland family will get a lot of gold."

"Oh, and who exactly said that." I called out, grabbing their attention.

"Die!" The man who wasn't speaking before cried as he charged with his sword held high.

With a sharp smirk I slapped the sword away from me with my gauntleted hand as it descended, stepped into my assailant's guard, and slammed my forehead into his skull. The soldier's eyes rolled up into his head as his legs gave out and he fell onto the floor in a heap, and the other soldier watched with wide eyes as I slowly put the heel of my foot onto his neck. The unharmed man lost control of his bladder as I snapped the injured man's neck with my boot as easily as a child breaks a tooth pick, but before he could flee my other gauntleted hand shot forward and grasped the man's entire head.

"I asked you a question." I whispered as I lifted the man by his head and slowly increased the pressure my fingers were putting on his skull. "Who is offering money of the heads of the Cousland family?"

"Aghhhh! Stop, please!" The man squirmed as he tried to pry my fingers from his head but might as well be trying to bend steel with his bare hands for all the good his resisting was doing. "I'll tell you! Please just stop! Oh, Maker, it was Howe! Arl Howe ordered us to attack the castle and put a price on your heads!

With a more-than-please grin I just increased the pressure on his skull until it broke, blood erupted from his ears, nose, and eyes, and the man stopped moving completely. Then without a thought, I tossed the body like trash to the side of the hallway.

"I guess the mystery is solved then." I muttered as I stomped towards the door leading out of my family's sleeping quarters. "It seems Uncle Howe is, in fact, trying to kill us. I'll have to make sure to return the favor at some point."

"You took the words right out of my mouth, my son." Mother quipped as she bypassed the two new dead bodies with even less interest then me. "I'll have to remind Rendon why I was called the Seawolf."

"Ha! Indeed." I barked out a grim laugh. "Uncle Howe will piss himself when he realizes that he woke not only the Seawolf, but the terrifying dragon she birthed."

Both Mother and I laughed away our grief as we lead our group towards Castle Cousland's main hall with Oren and Halava silently tailing behind us the entire way, all the way fighting through small cabals of Howe soldiers. Upon seeing enemies, Mother would fall to the back of our party and pelt the enemy with bullseye after bullseye of rage filled arrows while Halava would move forward to assist me on the frontlines, duel wielding a plain short sword she took from the dead guard whose skull I had crushed with one hand and a beautiful Silverite dagger in the other. Oren would stay in the back with either Halava or Mother and Culainn while calling out any enemies that he thought we didn't notice, and I stayed at the forefront of the party, carving through soldier after soldier with Balmung's mystic edge.

Along the way we stopped and emptied Castle Cousland's treasury of everything that we could carry and could be of use to Howe if he got his hands on. The ancestral sword and shield of the Cousland family I strapped to my waist and back, respectively, and the pile of 350 Sovereigns plus a number of silvers Mother split between herself, Oren, and Halava. Also, there Mother replaced her hunting bow with the old war bow she claimed to have used in the Rebellion and gave Halava one of the Cousland elite knight swords, of which was of a much higher quality than the Amaranthine blade she had been using previously.

It was only after checking on the castle Chantry, and finding that Mother Mallol was missing, did we finally make our way to the main hall. There, at least, we found a friendly face.

"Blessed Andraste! Thank the Maker that you are alright!" The usually friendly voice of Sir Gilmore was strained by fatigue from holding such a key part of the castle with so few troops, and his usually carefree face was marred by lines of stress and an actual jagged red scar line on his right cheek that just missed his eye. "My Lord, Lady Teyrna, and young Lord Oren, you have no idea how relieved I am that you three are unharmed."

Stepping out of the way of the doorway, I allowed Mother to usher Oren into the hall while Halava came in after, entering with her back to the door so she could watch our backs. After they entered I hastily shut the door and dragged a nearby book case in front of it to block it. However, before I could come forward to speak to my long-time friend a shout from one of the guards watch the front interrupted the peace.

"Enemies! Howe dogs are coming in through the front!"

Ten men wearing Amaranthine colors came rushing into the main hall following the guard's warning, but four immediately meet their ends. Mother and one of the guards, who was also wielding a bow, had let loss arrows the moment the door had opened leaving one Howe soldier with an arrow instead of a left eye while the other was screaming at the arrow that had penetrated his stomach and intestines. One more was cut in half, legs falling in one direction and the rest of him falling in the other, by Balmung, while the last was dead before he hit the ground when Halava climbed one of the dinner tables and leapt from it onto his chest, swords and dagger first.

Two more fell when they tried to rush the, now floor bound, she-elf. One was rewarded for his efforts with a Silverite dagger to the throat while the other lost a leg to Balmung's edge before I stabbed the enchanted blade home into his heart. Then, with the advantage of numbers on our side even with the loss of one of the two guards, everyone ended up facing an opponent one-on-one.

My foe ended up being the only mage apart of the troop of Howe soldiers. Dressed in tawny, shabby robes and wielding a mage's staff that was little more tree branch, it was obvious that this was just some apostate mage that managed to hide from Templar Order all his life and not one of the more powerful mages that stayed free from Circle control through personal power. The man had unkempt hair and beard, both of which were starting to go grey and his skin looked pale and clammy, like he had been living in a cave all his life.

I easily blocked his first spell, a basic Shock similar to the ones my mage friends had demonstrated for me, by throwing a nearby chair into its path, and shock off a Mind Blast with little difficulty, but when the mage launched a sustained bolt lightning at my face I was forced to get creative. Not because the spell would hurt, but because the tingly feeling after being hit with a lightning spell was too annoying to deal with. By dropping onto the ground and rolling under a nearby table I managed to dodge most of the mystic attack, while the rest merely charred expensive woodwork when I lifted the table I was under with little trouble and used it as a shield.

Moving forward with my makeshift shield I managed to reach the man even when he back stepped as fast as he could. Then, with only a flimsy piece of furniture between us, I stabbed Balmung through the table and into his gut. His scream of pain echoed off the stone walls of the main hall, and, because everyone else had finished their foes already, caused all my allies to turn in my direction.

"What?" I questioned as I whipped the dying man's blood on his robes and stomped on both his staff and dominant hand, breaking them. "I can't help it if my advisory is a screamer. What do want me to do, gag him then kill him?"

With a huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh Mother turned away from me to focus on discerning Father's location from Sir Gilmore, leaving me to take stock of everyone else's conditions. Of the two guards that had been helping our sworn knight protect the main hall only the archer of the two still lived, and he was currently kneeling next to his dead brother-in-arms rocking back and forth while whispering the Chant of Light. Halava was whipping blood from her duel weapons, the small smile on her face hinting that she found me earlier comment humorous, just like Mother did, and, also like Mother, was trying to hide the fact that she thought as much. Finally, poor Oren was sporting a sickly shade of pale as he gazed upon his home covered in the blood of invaders and gripped tightly in his left hand was the makeshift short sword I had given him, still covered in his mother's blood, all the while my loyal hound tried to get his attention with gentle nudges of his nose.

"Oren. Oren, look at me" I called out to the boy as I softly made my way to him and placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. "Don't look at their bodies any longer than you have too nephew. In the middle of a battlefield, to better protect yourself, it is better that you forget that your enemies are people. You have to close yourself off to their pain, desperation, and fate, for only your side matters until the battle is over. Do you understand Oren?"

Slowly Oren's deep blue eyes, much like Father's and Fergus', turned so that they gazed into my sea-green until they slowly darkened and hardened into twin abyss as determination filled him. After witnessing his small transformation, I didn't even need his nod of confirmation, but still smiled and squeezed his shoulder softly when he did so, before focusing on Mother as she approached us.

"According to Sir Gilmore, your Father was here moments before we arrived but left for the hidden escape tunnel in the larder, hoping to find us there. We should hurry; Sir Gilmore has volunteered to stay here and hold the front gate for as long as possible but against a whole army he will only be able to hold this point for so long, and I'm worried about your Father wandering about while Howe soldiers roam the halls."

"Do you mean th-" I grimaced as Mother interrupted my question.

"Yes, it is. The tunnel you used to run away so many years ago is, in fact, the one your Father is headed for."

 _Damn it all._

"Very well." I frowned before turning to address the loyal knight I had known all my life. "Sir Gilmore, thank you. I have met few men as brave as you and I believe you would have made a great Grey Warden. May the Maker watch over you."

"And you as well Lord Dragon Slayer."

With our goodbyes done I opened the door opposite to the one we had used to get into the main hall, and held it open for my mother, nephew, and the mysterious elf that was helping us. Then before closing it behind me I left one last message for the men loyal to Highever.

"It was an honor knowing or meeting each one of you. Fight well, and I look forward to the day we all meet again in the next life."

The path to the kitchen was just as dangerous as the path to the main hall. Howe soldiers flitted from room to room like vermin and most died in the same fashion. The only real threat being the Howe knight that waited for our party in front of what was left of Nan's cooling corpse, the blood of the woman who treated me like her own son dripping from his war maul and a cruel smirk dancing across his face under his helm.

The knight died slowly and painfully for his deeds. Impaled alive with his own, shattered, weapon, with all his limbs broken so he couldn't escape the fire that was slowly making its way towards him. He could only watch with desperate eyes as my group made its way into the castle larder, and as his painful death slowly inched towards him.

"Bryce!" Mother called out as she entered the larder first and her cry was quickly followed by Oren's shout of, "Grandpa!"

However, as I entered the small back room it took everything I had not to storm out of the larder and rampage through the invading army until I found Arl Rendon Howe. Because my father was wounded, and it was obvious that the wound was a mortal one that would claim his life.

"Pup." Father gasped as he saw me, all the while my blood boiled as small tears escaped from my eyes as I looked into his ice blue orbs for what could be the last time. "You did a great job protecting our family, my son."

As he rose the hand that wasn't holding his injured hand I dropped to my knees and grasped the appendage in both my armored hands. "I wasn't fast enough, Father." I growled as I tightened my grip on his hand. "Oriana was dead before I could reach her, and soon you will be joining her in the afterlife. I'm sorry."

"My poor, brilliant son." Father whispered as he let go of his wound, so he could use his bloody hand to pull me into a tight embrace that allowed him to whisper into my ear. "You have grown so much since you left here that I barely recognized you as the young man I take such pride in raising. You did everything you could for your sister and I, but now the living take precedence over the dead."

"Don't talk like that Bryce." Mother's tears ran down her face as she listened to Father's words. "Just hold on, we'll find a way to patch you up and then we all can get out of here."

"Oh, my love." Father turned his focus on Mother as I gently helped him lay back down so he could again hold his injured side. "I wish I could do as you say, but I'm afraid I don't have much time left."

"I'm afraid that the Teyrn right, in more ways than one." A new, only slightly familiar voice echoed off the larder stones, only to gulp when I reared up to my feat, drew my sword, and thrust it under the intruder's chin in less than a second after he walked through the larder door.

Duncan, the older Grey Warden Commander who I had dinned with earlier, blinked as he observed the enchanted sword resting at his throat, and slowly raised his hands in a placating manner, only to gulp in anxiety as the action only received a growl from me.

"Pup, its ok. Duncan saved my life earlier; he is the only reason your talking to me now and not finding naught but a corpse."

"Indeed." Duncan confirmed, a forlorn look forming on his face. "I regret that I couldn't get to the Teyrn before he was injured so gravely."

"If you were so regretful, then why did you leave him here alone and defenseless?" The angry question escaped my mouth with a growl before I could stop it, even as I sheathed my sword and allowed the man to enter.

"Because Duncan came back into the keep to find me." Another new voice sounded from behind the Commander of the Grey, this only more familiar because of the woman that it belonged to.

Shiara Amell, though still as beautiful as she was during dinner, looked slightly worse off due to the speckles of blood staining her once pristine robes and tussled hair. Her eyes shifted to the corners of the larder as she entered with a weariness that didn't exist earlier, and a small red stain adorned her pale neck, which she tried to cover up by ruffling her robes to block sight of it.

"Duncan." Father's pained gasp interrupted my thoughts, as he gazed up at the Grey Warden commander with feverishly bright eyes. "My family needs to escape the castle, could you please help them?"

"Of course, my lord Teyrn." Duncan lowered his head in both acceptance and, what looked like, shame. "But in return I need to ask something from you."

"Name it, Commander." Father accepted instantly, raising a warning hand towards me as I reached for my sword again and color seemed to bleed out of the world, but the details of Duncan's armor became more pronounced.

"My lord, I came to Highever to find a potential recruit for the Grey Wardens, and instead I found three." Duncan explained as he kneeled next to Father. "Sir Gilmore would have made an excellent Warden, but I'm afraid he is probably dead, and I can't return to Ostagar without more potential recruits. To that end, in return for helping your family escape, I wish for both your son and Halava Tabris to become Grey Wardens."

Silence permeated the storage room as everyone within tried to digest the Grey Warden's request, and all the while I was resisting the urge to plunge Balmung straight into the older man's heart. In response to my obvious anger Shiara was trying to be subtle as she prepared her staff to cast spells if I acted on my impulse to kill.

"Very well Duncan you have a deal." Father's words broke the silence as my temper exploded and I broke a nearby barrel of cabbages with my fist. "You help my family escape and Artorias will join the Wardens. As for Miss. Tabris you will need to asker directly."

With a nod Duncan grasped my dying father's hand for a deal-sealing shake, before opening the secret tunnel out of the castle and motioned for everyone else to begin moving. Shiara was the fist to make use of the exit, obvious anxious to leave the chaotic castle, and was shortly followed by Halava after she kneeled next to Father and whispered a few words of parting. However, when it was Mother's turn to leave, problems arose.

"No!" Mother cried. "I won't leave you here for Howes dogs to find. If you stay, I stay! And every Howe man that walks though that door will face my arrows until I run out."

"Absolutely not." I pulled my mother from her knees. "If I'm going off to fight Darkspawn and you stay here to die against Howe soldiers, who is going to take care of Oren and help him reclaim the castle! You are leaving with us Mother, whether you do so by your own power or if I have to throw you over my shoulder."

The larder was silent for a moment after my declaration before Mother released a pained wail, laid long kiss on Father's lips, whispered unheard words into his ears and descended down the secret passage whilst placing a weeping Oren under her unarmed hand. Together the two descended the dark passage way with Halava and Shiara and Culainn, leaving just Father, Duncan, and I.

Without hesitation Balmung was drawn from its sheath and hovering inches away from Duncan's neck once again, this time causing a few drops of blood to drip down the fragile skin. "I should kill you where you stand Warden Duncan, for having the audacity to blackmail Father with Mother, and Oren's lives."

For a moment the only sounds to fill the larder were from the destruction outside, but because Father began coughing up blood again I re-sheathed my dragon-slaying steel and left my threat half delivered. "I will do as you command, Father." I whispered to the dying man who raised me as I gently wrapped in a final hug. "I will fight the darkspawn as a Grey Warden but rest easy knowing I will also bring justice to our house and visit vengeance upon Rendon Howe. You have my word as the Grandmaster of the Order of Balmung and as your son. I love you Father."

"I love you as well, my son. Now go."

Then, with my parting words given, I lowered Father's head onto a bloody cloth and jogged down the secret passage with the Commander of the Grey close on my heels. I only stopped to hit the switch that closed the secret passage, during which my sea-green eyes met with Father's deep blue for the last time as he smiled at me. Then the door to the passage closed and darkness engulfed us all.

* * *

A.N:

So I'm really sorry that this took so long but it has been a pretty busy time for me.

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I guess I'll just get started on the next chapter, see ya later.


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